


Knowing Me, Knowing You

by Shower_Of_Oranges



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Drama, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 11:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shower_Of_Oranges/pseuds/Shower_Of_Oranges
Summary: Set in a time where humans are equipped with cameras inserted into their brains, making it possible for one to "save" and "review" memories time and time again. Chester Bennington, a successful Tech Doctor infamous for "Erasing" memories, meets freelance artist, Mike Shinoda during a most complicated time in both their lives. Worlds collide, love blossoms, and secrets are kept lock and key but what happens when the memories resurface? Is their love strong enough to survive the past or is history doomed to repeat?***UPDATE AS OF 07/15/18*** STORY IS CONTINUED @ LPFICTION.COMhttp://lpfiction.com/story.php?id=16742





	1. Chapter One-- Horizons

**Author's Note:**

> I got the foundation of this story from an episode of Black Mirror and made it my own. Haven't written any LP fan-fiction in over fifteen years so I'm a tad nervous. Not sure how much traffic I'm going to get here but either way I'm super excited to get something posted! So if you're here, thank you for reading! P.S. I get a little uncomfortable writing about real people, especially in LP Fandom because some fans seem to get really riled up over LP FF, so to keep it as "non-realistic" as possible, I don't use the actual names of any of the wives/children/siblings of the band members. There might be a few names that are actual names but I'm trying to keep them as limited as possible, so bear with me on that. After all, this is a work of fiction, is it not? :)
> 
> Song in the beginning is "Horizon" by Puscifer.

Chapter One

**:::Three and a Half Years Earlier:::**

_Dust Devil swept you away_

_It’s still not real_

_Ash and urn and silence_

_Talk to me_

The room smelled of sanitizer and bleach. He loathed that smell: hospital smell… death. Only this wasn’t a hospital, not really. He lay back in the chair and stared at the three large computer screens on his right, one of them beeping along to his irregular heartbeat monitored by a tab pressed into his index finger. It was dark aside from the green lines on the screens which were providing information such as heart rate, blood pressure, and Chip download. His hands itched to reach behind his ear, yearning to touch the one thing that would be eternally altered come morning. Tracing the outline of the small square buried underneath his flesh, he felt the strain of stress overtake him completely. He’d never done this before and couldn’t quite explain into words the equalized doubt and relief he would be feeling once these chosen memories would be out of service.

_Dust Devil swept you away_

_My recollections are all that’s left of you_

_Swirl and sway_

_Without me_

Two men on the other side of the room talked amongst themselves as he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing: in… 1,2,3…out 1,2,3… in 1,2,3,… out 1,2,3… just as they instructed to him hours prior. What was the point of the breathing exercise if they were just going to knock him out anyways? It didn’t make sense. Then again, did anything make sense anymore? Ten golden years of happiness and he was choosing (on his own free will) to have them erased. He’d only read about people doing what he’s about to do in the papers, blogs, and magazines. The media portrayed Memory Cleansing as a sort of “jubilee of the soul” if you will; a fresh start; a new beginning. A majority of the patients, however, were either celebrities or those in the 1%, it was an expensive procedure. God only knows what they chose to have removed: bad memories; molestations, rape, family feuds? Surely he was the only lunatic in the entire world to ask to have the happy memories pulled out. No one in their right mind would ever do such a crazy thing. No one, that is, except him. Still, he had his reasons, and whether or not those reasons made sense were strictly up to him.

“Just make sure this is what you really want,” they told him earlier, the same two guys whispering in the corner of the room. He didn’t need to look to know that were staring at him even now. “There’s no turning back after this. Once they’re gone, they’re gone.”

He wasn’t stupid – a tad mad, perhaps, but not stupid. Would he regret this in the morning? Maybe… Yet, would he even be able to remember enough to feel such regrets? He’d hoped not…

Soft fingers grasped his hands and when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by a familiar face and a friendly smile. Oh, but the sadness in his friends eyes… thank God he’d be forgetting this moment.

_Dust Devil swept you away_

_Whirling playful dancing_

_About you_

_What’s left of you is_

_Ash and urn and this_

_Silent_

_Horizon_

“You got your heartbeat down,” he noted. Another few seconds of silence passed. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

He waited to answer, looking into the two pairs of eyes staring at him: one of them sad, the other lost. Then, very slowly, he nodded.

“What other choice do I have?”

His friend knelt down next to him, the tile cold on his knees, his hands just as cold, shaking, as they soothed over his arm.

“You won’t even take therapy into consideration? Or counseling? I know a Doctor, a great one, he’s helped me through some thin–”

“No, no therapy. I understand your concern and I love you for it, but it’s just a few memories, not an entire ten year span. I’ll still remember you and my family. This is… this is what I want.”

He let out a sigh. “Ok,” he said and kissed his forehead lightly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The patient watched his friend leave the room, patting the Tech Doctor on the shoulder as he walked by him.

They were alone now. They hadn’t been alone together since… he couldn’t even remember when. Chester’s footsteps were like air as he strode across the room. He always a grace to him, his hips similar to a butterfly’s wings, their sway easy and light. He picked up a chair and placed it next to his patient who was looking up to the ceiling, avoiding Chester's troubling gaze as he sat down.  

“You don’t have to look at me. I understand if you don’t. I just want you to hear me out.”

“Don’t try to change my mind. It’s made up.”

“I know,” Chester said. “I’m not going to try to change your mind. I just… I just want you to know some things before we begin.”

Once again, he said nothing. Chester continued:

“Humans…” he began; an apparent fumble to his words. “Humans shouldn’t be born with these Chips. It’s so unnatural. How we’ve become a species that are equipped with camera lenses and a microchip embedded into our skin is nothing short of a curse.”

“Or a miracle.”

“Maybe. But… we’re supposed to be able to keep our memories, ya’ know? Even the bad ones.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Why? What good could the bad ones possibly do for us? Put us deeper into despair? Depress us? Make us put a gun to our head, hot and loaded?”

“Is that… is that how you feel? About–”

“Yes,” the patient snapped. “That’s exactly how I feel and I don’t want to feel it anymore. I never wanted to feel it to begin with but you…” The room grew still – quiet – as he finally turned his head and looked into the dark, brown eyes rimmed in red; tears threatening to spill. “You fucked it all up,” he continued. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad… or maybe I am, I don’t fucking know. All I know, for certain, is that I want this shit out of my head. I don’t want to have to close my eyes, Lenses or not, and see your face, hear your voice, see how it felt to have your hands on me, your lips on me. I want it gone. All of it.”

They were unable to grasp how tension could be thicker than a sheet of foam board. Chester sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t slept in days. His nerves were shot. Everything was shot: his life, his future, his family…

_Dust Devil swept you away_

_It’s still not real_

_Ash and urn and silence_

_Dust Devil swept you away_

_My recollections are all that’s left of you_

_Swirl and sway without me_

“What’s left for me after this?” He asked his patient. “After tonight I’ll have lost everything. Your love was all I ever wanted. Ten years! Ten years just to throw it into the fire?”

“Not my fault.”

“You’re right, it’s not! I know I fucked up. Damn it, you think I don’t think about it every single day? You think I don’t feel the emptiness of the bed? The unfamiliar scent of the sheets?” The patient turned back to the ceiling, his heart aching at the sight of those glorious, kind eyes so broken down and weak. Still, he listened. After all, Lord only knew when he’d hear that voice again. “I wish I could take it back, you know that right? It was a mistake, a stupid, stupid mistake. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. It’s too late and I wish it wasn’t. I wish I could just… just unhook you from these goddamn machines and hold you one last time. Just one last time I want you to feel my love for you.”

“Please stop.”

“No! Tomorrow I’ll be out of your life and I have things I need to say, damn it! Look at me!” He lowered his voice. “Please?”

Eyes met and the doctor rested his elbows on his knees and wrapped his fingers of his left hand around the patient’s wrist. His tone softened along with his posture, his shoulders slumping from an invisible, powerful weight. They were unable to turn away no matter how badly they wanted to. One man knew he’d never see those eyes again – in memory or in life. As for the other man? Well, wouldn’t you want to look into your lovers one last time before they erased you out of their life forever?

“Are you… are you going to… miss me? Even just a little?” Whispered Chester.

Unless you were looking for it, one wouldn’t have been able to see the smile grow on the patient’s mouth. He closed his hand over the pale one on his arm.

“Yes.”

Chester released a held-in breath. “Then why?”

“Oh, sweetness, I will always love you,” he promised, the tears now freely spilling over. He told himself he wouldn’t cry; that he didn’t deserve his tears. Well, to Hell with that. “My best years were with you; all the laughs and the kisses. We’ve watched each other grow from lost boys into successful men and… and I know this is hard to believe right now but I wouldn’t trade any of that for the world.”

“You’re trading them in now.”

“But not because I don’t cherish what we have,” he paused and said, “… _had_. You know why I’m choosing this.”

“I do but… I’m hurting too, darling. Maybe not as bad as you but, fuck, this hurts! This hurts…” Chester pressed his forehead to their locked hands and cried into their skin. “This hurts so fucking… so fucking… bad!”

The patient sat up in his chair and ran his fingers through Chester’s sweaty hair.

“Shhhh… I know…” He cooed, resting his cheek on his crown.

“No you don’t. You don’t know! You’re just throwing me away!” Chester rebutted.

“But I’m not.”

“Yes you are! Ev-ev-everything we ever were! Everything we ev-ever could be!” It was difficult to talk; the silent tears now a weeping massacre. “Fuck, don’t leave m-m-m-”

_Dust Devil swept you away_

_Whirling playful dancing_

_What’s left of you_

_Ash and urn and this silent_

_Horizon_

He pulled him into his arms and Chester instantly buried his nose into the crook of his neck. Salt and waterfalls… God, it was the best scent in the world, his skin. He wanted to scrape it off his flesh and bottle it so he’d never forget. How foolish he was. How foolish they both were.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything,” said Chester.

“I know, darling, I know. But it’s time…”

“No! NO, NO, NO!” He looked up at him, his face flushed and tear-stained, his bottom lip quivering. “Don’t make me do this! I’m begging you! Please! The technology isn’t up to par! What if something goes wrong? I could never forgive myself! Fuck, please! Please don’t make me!”

“We’ve been over this. It has to be done. I know my chances. I signed the papers.”

“Fuck the papers!”

“Shhhh, Ches, please calm down. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Like this could get any harder!”

He didn’t know what else to say, so he said nothing, and held the crying man, absorbing his body heat, and inhaling his masculine scent. Would he ever remember any of it: how Chester felt in his arms, how his bones felt beneath his hands, even if it was just in bits and pieces; small flashbacks that occurred out of no-where?

When Chester calmed (his hands still in a death grip on the patient’s shirt collar) the door to the lab opened. They knew who and what time it was. Chester’s heart tumbled into the pit of his stomach. He held back an urge to throw up, his throat dry and eyes burning from constant tears.

Their friend came up behind Chester and squeezed his shoulder. “C’mon, it’s time, buddy,” he whispered in his ear, Chester nodding in response. He sat up and sniffed, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his shirt. He flashed his patient one more longing gaze then stood up. He walked to the opposite side of the room where he shed his emotions and slipped into his lab coat, surgery gloves, and mask.

The patient sat back into his chair and rested his palms on his stomach. Tears rolled down his cheeks and into his ears. He heard the ocean. He smelt the sea water and saw the seagulls gliding along a clear, azure sky. It was their place. Chester always smelled of sand and sea. He closed his eyes and focused on that one singular memory: crashing waves, sea-foam, and welcoming skies; white puffy clouds, like cotton candy, a flavor which melted onto his lips whenever Chester would kiss him, just as he was now.

One last kiss: warm, tender, passionate and worth more than any vocal goodbye.

“I love you.”

Something that wasn’t Chester’s lips covered his mouth. He breathed in deeply.

_Swirl and sway without me_

_Dust devil swept you away_

_Whirling playful dancing_

_About you_

Then he slipped away.

_What’s left of you_

_Ash and urn and this_

_Silent_

 

**:::Present Time:::**

Chester slammed the box down with a huff. He leaned over the cardboard and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist.

“Damn, sis, how did you manage to fit all of this in your car? And I thought I was a hoarder!” He exclaimed to the petite blond standing at the side of her bed, pulling out clothes from another box and laying them flat on the mattress in orders of color and cut, summer and winter apparel. Chester cocked a brow. “And I see that OCD runs in our family.”

Jazalyn Bennington peered over her shoulder at her older brother and rolled her brown eyes at his over dramatization as he huffed and puffed over a cardboard box no bigger than a twelve pack of Budlight. She shook out another piece of clothing, the cotton-blue dress falling into the summer pile.

“Stop being such a cry baby. I did not bring that much.”

Wide eyed, Chester chortled. “Whatever! I can barely move in this room!”

“Everything’s in boxes, Chazzy-boy! Besides, I don’t think you have room to complain. I’m doing you a favor, remember?” She asked with a hiked blond brow.

Chester tensed up, suddenly feeling guilty for giving his sister a hard time. Jaz was right. She’d driven all the way from Phoenix, Arizona to Los Angeles, leaving her friends, their mom and stepdad behind, to assist Chester. He had been running out of people to trust with his son, his last baby sister having taken advantage of Chester’s hospitality. Coming home to find the woman you trusted with your kid screwing her boyfriend on your bed wasn’t something one was pleased to discover after a late night at the lab. Needless to say he kicked them both out, fired her, and then set the bed ablaze.

“Earth to Chester!”

Chester shook his head at the sight of a blurry hand waving in front of his face. Jaz was standing in front of him, her eyes glowered in worry and sympathy, a look he’d grown used to over the past three and a half years.

“Sorry, sis,” he apologized in a half-mumble. “Got lost in memory for a bit there.”

Her petite shoulders hung and she wrapped her fingers around his colorful wrists, her thumbs rubbing along the licking flames adorning his skin.

“Stop looking at me like that, please.”

She sighed and remarked, “I’m sorry. I just worry about you. You’ve been through so much, Chaz, more than any one person should ever have to go through in a single lifetime much less a few years.”

“I’m fi--”

“You don’t always have to be strong, ya know. There are ways to… erase things, Che--”

Jaz jumped as Chester yanked his arms out of her grip. He turned his back to her and ran his hands through his short, brown locks. They didn’t say a word, Chester now staring out at the ocean through the opened French doors, watching the gentle waves lapping against a white sandy shore. He inhaled the salty fresh air and closed his eyes, trapping in a single tear threatening to escape.

“I think we both know what happens when erasing goes wrong,” he said at last, his voice nearly a whisper that Jaz had to stop breathing in order to hear him. “It may hurt but at least I… at least…”

Jaz rubbed his shoulder gently. “It’s ok, Chaz. You don’t have to talk about it. I’m sorry I even mentioned erasing anything. I wasn’t thinking.”

Still looking out towards the ocean, he gave a small smile.

“It’s all I have left, Jaz. Just one push of a button and he’s there, ya know, right in front of me: smiling, laughing…” He chuckled sadly. “God that laugh,” he reminisced with a longing in his almond eyes, “that laugh’s the sweetest song in the world. Is it wrong for me to go back and re-watch all those moments?”

Jaz didn’t answer right away. In her opinion it was unhealthy to go back and re-live memories that had the ability to shatter ones soul. Her brothers’ case was a special one and Jaz constantly caught herself worrying over his overall well-being. Three and a half years she had to sit back and watch the Lenses glass over his eyes, seeing sights that only put him in tears. How many times had he called her up in hysterics? How many bottles of whiskey did he go through during those first six months of loss? It got so bad that she and their mother had to make an emergency red-eye flight to Los Angeles to watch over a newborn Jude and pick up the shattered pieces Chester buried himself in.

They’d made so much progress in the last few years that Jaz dreaded the idea of it all going to waste; of Chester going down another spiral of self-loathing and alcohol abuse. It didn’t take him long to quit his habits, realizing that he had to clean himself up, not for his benefit, but for Jude’s. After a year Jaz somehow managed to push him back out into the dating world. Chester’s friend, Brad Delson, had introduced him to a lawyer from his firm, Rob Bourdon, and the two hit it off instantly. They dated for a few months and things went as smooth as one could expect given Chester’s delicate matters until Rob broke the relationship off. Chester wasn’t ready, everyone knew it, and Rob didn’t want to pressure him into something he wasn’t comfortable with.

“I know he sees another face whenever he looks at me,” Rob had told Brad after the breakup. “He needs more time.”

Brad agreed, of course, and understood, but, after Rob left, made a phone call to Jaz just the same. The two were at their wits end when it came to Chester. Brad didn’t know how to deal with his friend’s heartbreak and Jaz was just trying to make sense of her brother’s emotions. Having never been in such a situation, neither Brad nor Jaz could ever fully understand what Chester was going through, and that only made things that much harder. How do you fix a broken man when the piece he needed most was amiss?

“Jaz?” Chester repeated.

She blinked once and sighed. “Chester,” she began. “You’re my best friend, you know that. I just want you to be happy. I hate seeing you dwell over things that you can’t fix. It kills me to watch you just… like… space out or trail off when you start talking. When was the last time you went out? Like, not with a guy, I mean just out, with friends? When have you been to a party?”

“Jude and I went to a birthday party last week,” he shrugged.

Jaz snorted. “I mean a party not involving a donkey piñata and a Frozen cake?”

“Hey! Kids that age are just as impossible to take care of as my grown ass, drunken friends!”

They shared a hearty laugh and Chester answered a breathless, “It’s been awhile.”

Jaz hummed, rubbing her chin in thought, Chester giving her a sideways glance. He hated when her hamster brain was on its wheel; nothing good ever came out of it.

“C’mon,” she said all of the sudden, dragging him away from the French doors, out of the room and down the hall towards Chester’s bedroom.

“Jaz! What the hell?”

She pushed him down on the bed before opening his closet, the sound of hangers scrapping against the metal bar. Jaz was singing random “na, na, na’s” as she flipped through his wardrobe.

“Jaz?”

“Chaz?”

 “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re raping my closet.”

“Ah-ha!” She exclaimed and tossed him a black button up and a pair of light blue jeans with a rip in the knee. Casual yet sexy, typical Jaz, he mused inwardly.

“And where are we going exactly?”

“I got invited to a party,” she said while rotating his shoe rack.

Chester scoffed.

“Unbelievable! You’ve been in town for less than a day and already you got invited to a party? How the fuck do you manage these things?”

“Because I’m adorable! Duh!” They laughed. She continued. “There was a guy standing next to me at the luggage claim and we got to talking. Name’s Dave something or another. Not a bad looking dude. Very polite. Figured ‘why the hell not’, ya know? I don’t know anyone here except you and Jude and as much as I love you, I need friends that I can – A: sleep with without it being disgusting or illegal and B: have a dinner and a drink that doesn’t consist of spaghetti oh’s and chocolate milk.”

“My spaghetti oh’s and chocolate milk movie nights with Jude are a helluva good time! You’re missing out!” He pointed out and smirked. “Besides, I can’t go out tonight. Jude is at his friend’s house for only a few more hours.”

“So call up the mother of Jude’s little friend and ask if you can pick him up in the morning and in exchange you’ll watch over her little heathen next week for a night,” suggested Jaz with a shrug and walking on her knees towards the second shelf of shoes. Chester opened his mouth but snapped it shut when Jaz interrupted him. “Stop! No arguing! You need to get out, Chazzy-boy. I just got here, left behind mom and my friends to help you and Jude and don’t think I don’t love you guys, I obviously do, this isn’t a chore for me but cut me some slack, Chaz. Let’s go have a fun night before our days go back to working long hours and cleaning up after a toddler.”

Chester fingered the shirt in his lap, the expensive cloth soft to the touch. It was a shirt he had bought for this exact reason: parties, friendly get-togethers…engagement dinners. The tag was still attached at the end of the sleeve. He let it slip through his long fingers a few times over. Then in one, quick motion, ripped it off from the clothing.

He got up from the bed just as Jaz was setting aside a pair of his black boots.

“Where ya goin’?”

“To call Marge and ask if she can watch Jude for tonight,” he answered while walking out the door.

Jaz smiled.

**********

“Hey, Mike, could you please throw some more beer in the cooler for me?” Brad yelled over the blast of the music. He coughed slightly, grey smoke from the grill rising high into the air as he opened the heavy metal lid.

Mike Shinoda nodded and ran into the house, skipping towards the mud room and grabbing a few cases of beer. Two hours into the party and already the Delson property was crammed to the corners with people, the music so strident that it made Mike’s chest vibrate and his ears pop. He never did understand how Brad managed to pull off such big parties. How could one person possibly know so many people? Then again, he guessed being the most popular and well respected lawyer in the L.A. area gained one a lot of company and respect. Mike inferred that most of Brad’s ‘friends’ were nothing short of acquaintance’s sucking up just in case they needed to force their partner into a prenuptial agreement in the future. Then there was the other half of people who went to Brad’s parties for the free booze and food and slip of private beach. It wasn’t a secret to Brad that he was being used, he just didn’t care. He enjoyed playing host and he had the funds to do it. Besides, it wasn’t something he did on a monthly basis.

“How’d you manage to get Mike to come out of his hermit shell for a night?” Dave Farrell asked Brad, scratching at his ginger goatee and raising a questionable brow with an amused guise.

“Told him it was either this or being dragged to a gay bar,” Brad laughed. “Ultimatums, dear friend.”

Dave chuckled and jabbed Brad with his elbow. “That’s not nice taking advantage of our Mikey like that.”

“Yeah, well, it’s also not nice to see him impound himself in his home office, working until his brain turns to mush. He needs to get out more.”

Dave nodded, his voice an undertone of seriousness. “I know. I worry about him too,” he looked over his shoulder, seeing their topic of conversation coming out of the screen door carrying a pile of beer cases. Dave ran over at once and relieved Mike of some of the weight. Mike thanked him with his infamous smile, the kind that made his cheeks rise high and bring out the laugh lines in the corner of his striking Japanese eyes.

They went about putting the glass bottles in the coolers, Mike sneaking a glance every so often at the crowd of people mingling about the large yard, admiring the warmth of the California sun beaming down on the sea green waters in the near distance.

Dave and Brad continued talking though Mike was unable to make out the conversation over the booming of music their friend Joe was creating on a makeshift stage, the Korean man scratching the turntables with one hand while the other held up an earphone to his ear. He was bobbing his head to the techno beat, lost in his own musical world. Joe was practically famous in the L.A. area, often hired by celebrities to DJ at parties or weddings, his latest job having been for a shindig hosted by Jay-Z in celebration of his current album release. Joe had invited Mike, Brad, and Dave along to the party. Mike declined, as he often did, and instead spent the night working on some freelance art for a local record company.

Mike was more than aware of his workaholic tendencies which often led to a lot of lecturing from his equally workaholic friends. However, whenever Mike would make that point apparent to them, they’d rebuttal with the overused, “but we have lives outside of the office” bullshit. Yes, they did live outside of their work, so much in fact that Brad started taking his wife and two kids on vacations twice a year. This year he took them to Disneyland and at the end of December they would be on a cruise heading towards Alaska. And while Mike did appreciate Brad’s concern, what Brad failed to comprehend was the fact that Mike didn’t have a partner, or kids, and his friends worked just as much as he did. His mom, dad and brother lived hours away and it was hard to find the time to make the travels, seeing each other only during the holidays and birthdays. His work was all he had and he didn’t mind it whatsoever. It kept him out of trouble and, most importantly, happy.

“Hey, Mikey!”

He looked up from the cooler at Brad.

“How do you want your steak, buddy?”

“Medium-rare, more rare than medium.”

Brad’s face fell. “Do I look like a master chef? You’re getting rare!”

Mike chucked and shut the door to the cooler. Brad slapped down the seasoned steak onto the grill and bobbed his head to the music. Out of all the countless parties he’s thrown over the years, this was by far the largest outcome thus far and he was quite proud of himself. His wife, Michelle, had taken the kids to her mother’s for the night and he spotted her near the pool, her tanned skin glowing in the sun, her bikini showing off a tight body that always seemed to snap back into place even after two pregnancies and a c-section. She flipped her long, brown hair over her shoulder and winked at Brad before going back to her conversation with a few of her girlfriends.

Dave skimmed the crowd of people and took a swig of his beer. He’d been scoping out the party since the moment he arrived, hoping to spot a particular cute blond he’d met at the luggage claim earlier that morning after a business trip to Washington. He was instantly taken by her, her tired yet big doe eyes reading over the tags on suitcases as they came around on the belt. When her luggage came up, she grabbed and held on, chasing it down the carousel, yanking with all her strength. Dave had come to her rescue and lifted her suitcase off the belt. When she turned to look at him, simply flushed, Dave couldn’t contain his inner teenage boy from making an appearance. She was beautiful in her own natural right, opposite of most women he saw in downtown L.A. Her blond hair was tied up in a messy bun and her jeans ripped but an army green tank hugged her in all the right places.

“Thank you so much,” she said to him, clearly embarrassed. “I swear I’m not usually this helpless. It’s been a long week. I just moved here from Arizona and had to make a quick flight out to get the last of my things.”

“Arizona? What brings you to L.A.?”

“My brother lives here and needs some help with his son. Oh, my, how rude of me, I’m Jaz,” she introduced with an outstretched hand.

He smiled. “Dave.”

They didn’t talk much after that, the hustle and loud commotion of the overstuffed airport making it difficult to hold a steady conversation. Dave took a chance on fate and invited her to Brad’s party, writing down detailed directions before going separate ways. Three hours into the party, Dave had given up hope on seeing the beauty again. Then, looking over the tail of his beer bottle at his mouth, a familiar blond could be seen snaking through a sea of guests, her navy blue dress strapless and flowing freely to the ground. His heart jumped and then, just as quickly, it stopped. Beer spluttered out of his mouth like a fire hose, the liquid soaking the side of Brad’s face.

“Dude! What the fuck, man?” Brad yelped, swiping at his now wet, hops smelling cheek. When Dave didn’t answer, he looked in the direction to see what it was – who it was – that had his friend so shaken. Brad squint his brown eyes at the girl in blue then jumped where he stood, eyeing down the familiar man following close behind.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Brad exclaimed in a whispering hiss into Dave’s ear. “Who invited him?”

Dave slowly turned to Brad and nibbled at his lower lip nervously. “Erm… I may have… erm…”

“Daaaaave, what did you do?”

“It was an accident!”

Brad lowered his arms to his side and balled his hands. “What do you mean an ‘accident’? How does one ‘accidently’ invite someone to a party exactly?”

“I invited the girl! I met her at the airport today! I didn’t know she knew Chester!”

Brad took a peek at Mike who was behind him at the coolers, sitting in a lounge chair, soaking up the sun, watching idly at the party happening down below the second story patio they were on. Brad squeezed his eyes shut and turned back to Dave and said in a low growl, “Go-fix-it-now.”

“Little too late for that,” Dave whispered and gave a single nod in the direction behind his irate friend.

“Hey!” A female voice chirped. “It’s a good thing you’re up here otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to spot you! There’s like, thousands of people here!”

Jaz smiled at Dave then cocked her head confusingly at his awkward greeting of a single “hey” barely audible over the thumping of music. Brad slowly spun his heel and met Chester’s eyes who were staring back at him with the same petrified expression on Dave’s paled face.

“Hey, Brad,” Chester greeted nervously.

Without a word, Brad pushed Dave in front of Jaz before grabbing Chester’s bicep and dragging him off the patio and into the house. Chester sighed, knowing all too well he was fixing to receive one of Brad’s infamous speeches, something no-one ever looked forward to for he always had a way of smeaing on the guilt trip – thickly. He followed the lawyer into the downstairs study and Brad pushed him inside before slamming and locking the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?” Brad asked at once, cutting right to the chase. “You can’t be here.”

Chester held up his hands in defense. “I got dragged along! I didn’t know it was this party! Which, by the way, thanks for the invite,” he grumbled with an eye roll.

Brad grunted.

“I couldn’t invite you and you damn well know why! And you didn’t think to say something when she gave you the address to the house?”

“She drove! By the time we reached your road it was too late!” Chester ran his hand through his hair and stared at his clean boots. “Listen, Brad, she’s doing me a huge favor here. I can’t just… like, force her to leave the party. She’s suffered enough because of my fuck ups. Just let her have some fun tonight and I swear I won’t do anything stupid. I’ll stay out of the way, I promise.”

Brad exhaled and looked about the room before settling his eyes on Chester, catching himself between being a good friend or a practical one. His foot repeatedly tapped against the hardwood floor as Chester fidgeted before him.

“Fine, you can stay,” he said at last. He pointed a finger at Chester. “But no funny business! Understand? There's a lot of us who have suffered at the hand of your fuck ups, Chaz.”

He hung his head. “I know, Brad.”

Brad squeezed Chester’s shoulder, resulting in Chester looking up at him through his wet lashes, tears streaming down his face. Brad melted at the sight. It’s been a long three years for everyone, but an even longer three years for Chester.

“I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean to go off like that. I just… I’m trying to protect everyone involved, you know? Especially you. Don’t you think _you’ve_ suffered enough?”

Chester sniffed and wiped his tears with angry fists. “No. I deserve to suffer for the next thousand lifetimes, Brad.”

“That’s not true. We all make mistakes.”

“Not like this…”

Brad’s back tightened and he squeezed Chester’s shoulder one more time before nodding sideways.

“C’mon, I’m sure I’ve already burnt everyone’s steaks.”

Chester laughed through his quiet sobs and followed Brad back out to the patio. Jaz and Dave were standing at the grill, flipping over steaks and burgers and very obviously flirting that it was almost painful to watch. Chester chuckled to himself when Jaz began twirling a strand of blond hair around her index finger and staring up at Dave, sipping through her daiquiri straw.

Brad took a look around, seeing the lounger empty. He furrowed his brow and searched around for the man who had been lying there no more than five minutes ago. Brad shrugged and kicked Dave away from the grill. Jaz giggled and Brad outstretched a hand in welcome.

“So how do you know Chester?” He asked her.

“He’s my brother,” she answered. Brad went wide eye. “I know,” she said, “all these years talking on the phone and we’ve never met! Crazy, huh? You must be Brad though.”

“How could you tell?”

“Chester always mentioned a friend with a big bushy beard. Said you had a nest of baby birds in there at one point.”

Chester yelped when a hamburger bun hit the back of his head as he was reaching into the cooler for bottled water. He stood up and shot Brad a daggering glare.

“What was that for?”

“I did _not_ have a nest of baby birds in my beard!”

Dave, Chester and Jaz broke out into a fit of laughter at Brad’s expense. Brad shook his head and went back to flipping the food on the grill, mumbling, profanities under his breath. A still chuckling Chester went back to rummaging through the cooler, pushing aside bottles of beer, the sound of glass clanking, the ice freezing over his skin as he dug deeper.

“Brad! What the hell, man? Is there no water in here?”

“It’s a party dude! Not recess!”

Chester rolled his eyes and slammed the cooler lid shut. Wiping his damp palms on his jeans, a shadow cast over him and he craned his neck to see a jean clad crotch standing before him. His heart began to race and he slowly stood up, head down, staring at the clear bottle of water dripping in condensation cradled in a caramel toned hand. He followed that hand up to a long arm and broad shoulder, over the dip of a strong neck. Full lips smiled at him in a somewhat shy manner and Chester settled into chocolate pools of brown staring back at him, the beams of the sun bringing out specks of dark amber.

“Uh… here… I’m sorry… I just… I overheard and…”

Chester smiled at him and Mike bit the corner of his lower lip when those honey brown eyes studied him in a quizzical fashion as if they were taking Mike in for the first – and the millionth – time. Mike was mystified by how eerie this man’s presence was and when he reached out to take the bottle from Mike, he didn’t move his hand away, and neither did he.

“Thank you,” he said. “Um…”

“Oh, Mike, Mike Shinoda.”

“I’m Chester Bennington. Nice to meet you.”

Mike froze. Where had he heard that name before? Somewhere in the papers? Facebook? Local news? He was someone important but Mike couldn’t quite place it. A musician? No… not a musician. Magician? Don’t be silly, Mike. Doctor? Yes. No! Technical…

“Yes!”

Chester jolted at Mike’s excited proclamation. Mike’s cheeks turned rosy beneath that caramel, sun kissed skin.

“I’m sorry. You were just so familiar to me. Like I know I’ve seen you somewhere.”

Chester swallowed dry. His heart was pounding louder than the drumming in his ears.

“Oh?”

Mike nodded. “Yeah, you’re that technical savvy, right? Like, you specialize in erasing Eye Memories, right? You can even remove the uh…” Mike tapped behind his own left ear, “Chips?”

It took Chester a moment to digest Mike’s realization. Yes, that was him alright: Chester Bennington: Chip Removing, Memory Erasing, selfish, heartless, S.O.B. who only destroys lives and somehow that resulted in fame and praise instead of punishment. Well, aside from his own self-inflicted punishments, that is.

“Yes, that’d be me.”

Straight, white teeth gleamed in the sun, as did his entire being, when Mike’s lips stretched into a smile.

“I read an article on you. Long time ago. Um… it was a rather personal article. Supposedly you accidentally deleted too much information on someone and it threw you off your work for a long time and then you… er…” Mike paused at Chester’s change in demeanor, his body tensing, eyes welling. “I’m rambling on about things that I shouldn’t. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I’m an asshole. I sometimes don’t know where my limits are. I mean, I was just trying to strike up a conversation up with you and I went and blew it and now I’m making you uncomfortable and… what? What’s so funny?”

Chester couldn’t help but to laugh at Mike’s struggling attempt at conversation.

“Do you do that a lot?”

Mike scrunched his brows. “What?”

“Ramble like a jack rabbit?”

Mike blushed ten shades of scarlet and looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m not good in big groups. They make me nervous. I apologize if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

Chester nodded knowingly. “It’s fine. I’m not here to judge you. And you didn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”

Mike looked up through his long lashes. “Really?”

“Really,” Chester assured with a friendly smile.

Meanwhile, Dave was off on the other side of the porch, desperately trying his own hand at the whole “flirtation” thing. It’s been awhile since he’d been with someone and talking to a girl was not exactly his forte to say the least. It didn’t take long for him to realize that Jaz was practically Chester’s double in all ways possible. Or, better put, she was Chester before the “accident”. She was bubbly, loud, and confident. Chester used to be that way. Now he was quiet and reserved. Dave couldn’t recall the last time he and Chester hung out, just the two of them, like they used to. No more concerts or Sunday night football. Chester was either too busy working or too tired to do any of those things.

“So will you be staying with Chester permanently?” He asked Jaz.

She nodded. “Yep, it’s just easier that way. Never thought I’d see the day where my brother would pay me to watch his kid. Well, and clean his house too. Lazy fuck.”

Dave laughed and looked over Jaz’s shoulder at Mike and Chester conversing. It appeared to Dave that Mike was offering Chester a bottle of water yet neither of them had removed their hands from said bottle; their eyes locked, bashful smiles exchanged, and Dave, drawn away from Jaz’s voice, excused himself, promising he would be right back. She was taken aback, baffled by the concerned shadow in his fern green eyes. How’d she always manage to attract the crazies? She rotated on her heel. Her heart stopped when she saw who it was Dave was walking towards.

Dave jumped in next to Mike, instantly breaking the trance between them.

“Hey buddy, can you help me out with something?” Dave asked Mike.

“Uh… yeah, sure.”

“Sorry, Chaz, it’ll be just a moment.”

Chester pursed his lips and gave his ok with a stiff nod to Dave who was now dragging Mike inside the house. Chester didn’t realize how bad he’d been shaking until Mike had let his grip slip from Chester’s hand. He couldn’t open the bottle of water, his fingertips slipping over the plastic cap, his bones weak beneath their muscles. Those eyes… he couldn’t get those damn eyes out of his head… What was Dave telling him? How much was Dave telling him? Yes, Chester had made mistakes – unforgiveable mistakes – in the past. But he was only human. Whatever happened to redemption?

“So whatcha need, Phe-Phe?” Mike asked Dave, giggling at the red-head’s college nickname.

Dave snarled and hissed, “Please don’t call me that.”

Leading them into the garage, Dave shut the door and turned on the light. Mike stood face to face with his friend, his pulse vibrating beneath his skin at Dave’s somberness. He had a tone to match that somber posture.

“So, I have to ask,” Mike said to Dave. “Is that hunk out there… you know… gay?”

Dave blinked at him and answered. “Erm… yes. But Mike--”

Mike stood on his tiptoes to look over Dave’s shoulder, his eyes lit with curiosity. “Really now? Hmmm… Well, I may just have to--”

“You have to stay away from Chester Bennington.”

Mike snorted and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What? Since when did you become my dad?”

Dave pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I’m not saying this to be a dick, Mike. When have I ever told you what and whatnot to do? You and I both know I would never do such a thing unless I felt as if it were important. Just, plea--”

“Is this because of what he did to that one person? You know, the experiment that went wrong? Surely it was a mistake.”

“Mike--”

“No one would ever purposely swipe a person’s Memories clean like that without feeling some remorse. People make mistakes, Dave.”

“Mike--”

“You can’t really hold that one thing against him no matter how big that one thing may be.”

“MIKE!”

The two went silent. Mike’s big, brown eyes narrowed, Dave’s shoulders tightening as he stared back, unsure how to explain to Mike the kind of person Chester Bennington truly was. He didn’t want to talk bad about Chester, especially behind his back without a chance to stick up for himself, but Dave was left with no other choice. He reached out and took Mike’s hands in his. Mike looked down at their hands then back up at Dave’s face.

“Please Mike. Just do this one thing for me, no questions asked. You don’t… you don’t know Chester like I know Chester. He’s not a bad guy, I’m not saying that. I just…” He paused and licked his lips. “Just this one time listen to me.”

Mike had never seen Dave react this way before. Normally the laid back one in their group of friends, the last to raise his voice or say a single bad thing about anyone – that was the Dave he knew, not this stiffened, petrified, stern man begging him to stay away from someone. Still, he could sense the urgency and seriousness in his warning. He put his chin to his chest.

“Ok, Dave.”

It was as if he melted out of a cube of ice upon hearing Mike’s agreement. He dropped their hands and put an arm around Mike’s shoulders.

“Right then. C’mon, let’s go enjoy the party. I’m sure Brad’s done burnt your steak.”

Mike snickered. “I’m sure you’re right.”


	2. Chapter Two-- Promises, Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes promises are all we can give... *Chapter Two of Knowing Me, Knowing You*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review? <3  
> P.S. The phone number in this chapter probably belongs to some poor innocent soul in L.A. Please don't call it. XD

Chapter Two--Promises, Promises

The sun was setting down over the horizon, the ocean’s earlier green pastel surface now mocking the lights in the sky overhead, neon pinks and oranges filling the atmosphere in a warm, relaxing glow. Chester sat with Brad, Dave, Jaz and Rob and a few other people he’d never met around a glass table. Chester and Rob hadn’t seen each other since their few months of courting a couple years back, and the tension that Chester was expecting to face had long gone before it even came. Rob greeted him warmly, his timid brown eyes just as friendly as his engulfing hug. There was never any bad blood between them. The relationship didn’t last, many don’t, so there was no reason to point fingers or shove blame on the failure. Chester wasn’t ready, Rob was looking for something long term and serious, something that Chester was unable to give at that time. Hell, it was something he was still unable to give, not just to Rob, to anyone.

When Dave and Mike came back outside (empty handed, Chester noted) Mike walked past Chester to accept his plate of food from Brad and took off to the DJ stand. He remained up there with their Korean friend, scratching discs, battling out songs, their heads bobbing in tune with the music and with each other. At one point Mike had taken the mic and sputtered out some raps, the women screaming. Chester smirked at the scene. Turns out Mike drove everyone wild…

“So, Mr. Bennington, you’re that tech savvy right? The one on the cover of Time magazine a few months back?”

Chester cleared his throat and forced his attention away from Mike at the DJ stand and in on the older gentleman across from him. Chester reached in his shirt pocked for his cigarette pack and popped one into his mouth. The older man lit it for him and Chester thanked him.

“Yes, but you can call me Chester.”

“Charlie,” he introduced, his smile barely seen beneath a patch of salt and pepper facial hair. “Brad here is a family friend.” He remarked, smacking Brad on the back, nearly making the lawyer choke on his drink. “Although he failed to mention he was friends with you, Chester.”

“Didn’t think it was important,” Brad said through a fit of coughs.

“Not important?” A younger girl Chester had met before, Jackie, exclaimed with an outstretched hand at Chester. “This is Chester fucking Bennington, Delson! The man, the myth, the legend! And you’ve been keeping him a secret! Naughty, naughty.”

Chester raised a hand to silence them. “Please. I really don’t--”

“I know perfectly well who he is, Jackie. Chester enjoys his privacy, as does anyone with recognition and money, you should know that, you know, being a senator’s daughter and all.”

Chester took a long drag off his cigarette, squirming in his seat. He loathed being center of attention and here were all these people practically battling over it. Having been staring up into the night sky folding in, he hadn’t noticed Mike join the table until he took the free seat next to him and Charlie. Chester sat up straight in his chair and Mike flashed him a small smile at his right. Chester returned the gesture, his eye catching a single, sweaty dewdrop on Mike’s cheek. He watched the little ball as it slid down his face, landing on the small U above his plump lips.

“Chester!”

Chester internally cursed whoever it was that forced him to advert his attention away from that damn drop of sweat.

 “Yes?”

“Mr. Charlie asked how much it cost to have a Chip Removal,” Mike whispered into his ear and Chester shivered from the warmth of his breath.

“Um… close to half a million.”

Charlie’s icicle eyes grew two times too big for his face. He leaned back in his chair and puffed on his pipe, the grey smoke leaving his lips as he asked, “Why so much?”

Chester stabbed his cigarette out in the glass ashtray and rested his elbows on the table.

“Well, it’s a dangerous procedure for starters and requires a lot of time. It can take anywhere from six hours to six days to delete certain memories, depending on how many years you want to forget. Erasing is cheaper because you’re not removing the Chip, you’re just removing certain aspects of your life you’d rather not see ever again, whereas Chip Removal requires putting one under and cutting deep into skin and tissue. Then there’s the matter of wire removal from the spinal cord and brain.”

Mike shifted and Chester stared at him from his peripheral, his head resting in his hand, his attention solely on Chester, just like the other twenty-something people leaning in to listen. When did the music quiet? Where did all these people come from? Chester wanted them gone. He didn’t want to discuss work, not to these strangers, anyways.

Jaz was the only on who seemed even remotely bored. Bored and concerned for different and obvious reasons. She knew her brother’s occupation inside and out, heard the explanations time and time again over long hours of telephone and FaceTime chats. She knew all the nooks and secrets of removing a Chip and even rewiring a Chip. She’d heard all about the illegal “Remover Techs” and their “underground” black market that sold Chips overseas, the Memories of a stripper now in the hands of some perv oceans away. It was old news to Jaz, a snore, and it bothered her that these people kept pushing her brother, who was clearly uncomfortable, into asking him questions about a very private matter. Tech Doctors are not to discuss what they do inside the lab, outside of the lab. How Chester was able to keep his cool was nothing short of a miracle, especially under other certain fragile circumstances. No wonder Dave had been so nervous earlier…

“Are there certain Memories the government doesn’t allow to be removed?” Jackie asked.

Jaz rolled her eyes.

Chester shook his head. “No, no limits. These are people’s personal Memories, they have every right to say what stays and what goes. If you work for the government it’s different. Certain forms of information need to remain in case of emergencies.”

“Is it true that the government is able to hack into our cameras?”

Chester snorted and lit another cigarette. Were people really this thick? Where were the tinfoil hats when you needed them? “No. Not possible. We’re born with the Chips in us. Can’t hack into something that’s a part of you.”

“Well there’s a relief,” Brad stated, smiling. “Because I’m sure there are some things that would make a random watcher go blind.”

“Pervert,” Rob muttered, causing uproar from the table.

Brad gave him a sideways glance. “They would only see your pasty white ass high in the air waiting for me.”

“Ok that’s where the line is drawn!” Dave erupted with a warning finger at the two lawyers. “None of that!”

Mike laughed and ran a hand through his hair, stealing a look at the brunet next to him who was lost in thought, puffing on his smoke, occasionally forcing a smile in order to appear as though he were fitting in with everyone else. It fascinated Mike to say the least. Chester was well known, well respected, yet Mike could tell that all he wanted was sink underneath the table and disappear.

“So,” Charlie spoke once again, quieting the table. “In the article it said you left the Tech for some time. A couple years, no?”

Chester nodded. “Year and a half,” he flicked his cigarette ash. “Was going through some personal things.”

“Oh.”

Chester hiked a brow and stared up at the older man, his neutral yellow shirt sharp against the now nights light.

“What?”

“I just… I just assumed it was because of that little… slip you made.”

Chester bit his lip. Mike witnessed the flames around his wrist pulsate and his back tighten. Mike, having made the same mistake as Charlie, swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling awful for the Tech next to him who was trying to remain civil in spite of everyone’s unnecessary probing.

Jaz, too, took note of Chester’s unease.

“It was a mistake, yes, but still, I’m su--”

“Chester is not permitted to discuss such private matters of his occupation to the public,” Jaz sharply cut in and Chester thanked her with his eyes. Charlie was about to speak against her until she held up a hand. “I’m sorry if I’m coming off rude, sir, but there is such thing as patient/doctor confidentially and that applies for my brother. It was a delicate case, yes, and the reason why you probably haven’t read a lot of information on the matter is obviously because it is a closed case; done, over, no more discussion. Ask him another question.”

Charlie slumped in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, a disgruntled expression shadowed over his wrinkled, sun poisoned face. Jaz winked at Chester and went back to talking into Dave’s ear, making his face turn brighter than his ginger hair.

Chester leaned into Mike and whispered. “Remind me to take that girl on a shopping spree.”

Mike breathed a hidden laugh. “Roger that.”

He didn’t know why Chester was telling him secrets. Then again, why should it matter? Just as long as he kept leaning his arm against his, just as long as he could keep inhaling his masculine scent that reminded him so much of the sea breeze, Chester could tell Mike that there was food between his teeth for all he cared.

“What’s the most popular thing people ask to be erased?”

It was Brad’s wife who asked, her hair piled high on her head, arms draped around Brad’s shoulder, her chin nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

Chester jutted his chin at her. “Exactly what you and my buddy have going on right now.”

“Marriage?” Brad asked with a grin. Michelle smacked him playfully.

“Kind of,” Chester agreed. He turned to Mike and said, “Love. People want to forget love.”

Mike softened under Chester’s gaze. So much sadness reflected back at him that Mike didn’t know what to say, what to do… So he did a Typical Mike and began rambling.

“That’s awful. Why would anyone want to forget love? Love is so rare, so precious, it should never be taken for granted or, God forbid, forgotten. No matter how bad a relationship ends, or how much it hurts, why would you want to forget that? I mean, the private time spent with that person is worth the memory, worth the occasional rerun every so many years, right? I couldn’t even imagine…” He slowed down to a stop at the tears trickling in Chester’s brown hues. Oh no, he had upset him again… Way to go, Mike Shinoda you Rambling Son of a Bitch.

Chester rolled his lips, smashed his cigarette into the ashtray, and stood up from the table.

“Would you all excuse me, please,” he apologized before making a dash into the house, leaving his uninvited audience speechless.

He ran upstairs into Brad’s master bath and shut the door. He slid down the oak and sunk into the plush carpet, drawing his knees to his chest and hiding his face into his arms. Having spent the entire night holding in his tears, he surrendered to them at last, letting them fall onto the carpet beneath, the fabric soaking them into their fibers as though they were never came out of his eyes to begin with.

A tapping at the door made Chester wipe his cheeks dry. He held his breath, hoping whoever it was would just go away and leave him to sob.

“Chester I know you’re in there. For some reason you’ve always used my bathroom as a crying room. Please let me in.”

Chester grunted in defeat and undid the lock. Brad slowly opened the door and knelt down next to his friend. He rested his hands on his quivering shoulders and pulled him into his body. Chester pressed the side of his head into Brad’s chest, his friend’s hand soothing the small of his back. Patiently Brad sat with Chester, letting him cry it out until he was calm enough to talk.

“It’s ok, Chazy,” he cooed, rocking them back and forth. “It’s ok. I know it hurts.”

“I’m such an idiot… such a fucking idiot, Brad… you were right, I should’ve gone home. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t ha-ha-have stayed he-he…”

Chester fell short of words as he began to cry once more, fisting Brad’s t-shirt and burying his face into the soft material. Jaz came rushing through the door moments later and caught the panic on Brad’s face. She sat down in front of them and leaned into Chester, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him out of Brad’s embrace.

“Let’s get you home, Chaz. C’mon… you gotta help me out here. You’re too fat for me to carry.”

“F-f-fuck y-you, Jaz.”

He looked up at her with a smile. She laughed and, with a protective arm around him, helped him down the two flights of stairs. She stopped in the kitchen and sat him down on a stool at the bar.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back, ok? Just gonna say goodnight to Dave.”

He nodded with a sniff and rubbed his nose dry with the heel of his palm. The music outside had started back up and he could feel the bass from the ground shaking upwards into his feet. He buried his face in his hands, exhausted, feeling as if he were being split in two all over again. Why did people have to pry so much? Why did they have to make assumptions? Why did those beautiful, dark eyes have to shine when they spoke declarations of love to him? Chester damn well knew what love was. He just didn’t want to remember…

A hand gently landed on his shoulder, making Chester jolt out of his seat, the barstool falling over, landing with a loud crash on the kitchen tile. Mike bent down and lifted the stool back to its proper place.

“I’m… sorry… I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Chester grinned, his face hot. He had hoped that Mike wouldn’t notice he’d been crying for the past God knows how many minutes… days… months… years…

Mike did notice. He was just too polite to say so.

“I wanted to make sure you were ok. You took off pretty fast,” Mike stated, nibbling his lower lip. He felt insecure under Chester’s scrutinizing gander. “I’m sorry if I said something that… that upset you. Like I said, I’m not good with conversation.”

Chester gave him a small smile. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“But that’s the thing. I will worry about it. In fact I’ll probably worry about it for the next month. I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or…”

He trailed off when Chester pressed his hand against his cheek. Mike forced his eyes from closing, forced his muscles from leaning into the tender touch. He tried not to purr when a thumb rubbed along his cheekbone.

“It’s ok,” Chester repeated deeply into his eyes. “It’s ok. Just forget about tonight, don’t feel guilty about anything. I’ll be fine. And you’ll forget about all this come tomorrow. I’m not that impressionable no matter what those idiots out there think,” he said with a jut to the glass table where Charlie and Jackie still sat.

He lowered his hand from Mike’s face and placed it flat against his own thigh. What the fuck was taking Jaz so long?

“But I don’t want to forget you…” A small, shaky voice said.

Chester looked up into Mike’s handsome face, his teeth pulling at his lip, the sound of ivory bone scrapping against facial hair.

“What?”

“I said I don’t want to forget about you,” Mike repeated. “I… I erm… I want to make it up to you.”

“Mike there’s nothing to make up for.”

“Please go on a date with me.”

Chester felt all the blood rushed from his head. His heart dove into the pit of his stomach. He and Mike locked eyes and neither dared to look elsewhere, not until Mike had an answer. He may be awkward, sure, and definitely shy when it came to men, but he just had to have a chance with this one; just had to! He didn’t understand his urgency. He was never one to believe in love at first sight, or soul mates, hell he wasn’t even much of a romantic at all and this was not something he was accustom to doing. When was the last time he even had a date?

“Uh, listen, Mike…”

Mike took a step closer and wrapped his long fingers around Chester’s flamed wrist. Chester raised his sights away from Mike’s button up, flannel chest and into his desperate eyes that seemed to travel on for miles, leading to exciting, unforeseen places just waiting to be discovered.

“Please, Mr. Bennington, just one.”

“I… Mike, I…”

“I promise, just one date. If we don’t hit it off, or click, or whatever cliché people use for instant connection, then I’ll never bother you again.”

Chester’s lip twitched. “You’re not bothering me,” he whispered. “And… ok.”

Mike straightened his spine and raised his brows. “Really?”

“Yes,” Chester laughed. “Give me your phone and I’ll give you my number.”

Mike nodded and reached into his back pocket, fishing out his phone and handing it to Chester almost desperately. Chester managed to unlock Mike’s phone, create a new contact, punch his number in, all without slipping his wrist out of Mike’s hand. He could feel the heaviness of Mike’s curious eyes on him yet Chester found himself enjoying it. He handed him his phone back with a slanted smile.

“You should really put a passcode on that thing.”

Mike furrowed his brow and stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

“Why? I don’t live with anyone.”

Chester shrugged. “Just in case you lose your phone. Wouldn’t want people going through your shit would you?”

Chester chortled at the seriousness on Mike’s face went serious, his eyes glancing upwards at the ceiling, forehead scrunched and upper lip hooked up.

“Huh… good point… Anyways,” he shook his head and gifted Chester with his dark eyes once more. “You didn’t give me a fake number did you?”

“I swear to you I did not. Go ahead, text it and see.”

Mike shook his head and said. “No, I trust you.”

Chester’s heart throbbed. _Where the fuck was Jaz?_

“Ready Chaz?”

_Oh, thank God!_

“I’ll uh… see you later…” Chester whispered, his skin feeling cold, empty, when Mike let his hand fall.

“I’m hoping,” Mike whispered back, his lips thinning into a smile.

Chester looked down and released a breath, walking past Mike to join his sister. They left the house and started down the road to where they had to park, the walk silent and thick with an air, Chester awaiting another lecture (and you can bet your ass his sister’s lectures were just as bad as Brads). Jaz, however, didn’t say a word until they got in the car and buckled in. Chester turned the key and the engine came to life. He pulled out of the parking spot and into the busy L.A. highway.

“Chester--”

“Don’t.”

“You can’t seriously--”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t think you do. You’ve been doing _so_ _good_ lately, Chaz, just focusing on you and Jude. Your son adores you, Chester. This is the first time I’ve seen you have a breakdown since--”

He looked at her sharply. “It _wasn’t_ a breakdown.”

Jaz scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me? Stop lying to yourself. It _was_ a breakdown. You know it, Brad knows it, I know it! Now is not the time to fall again, Chester! It’s not fair for either of you.”

“Who said anything about falling? All we did was talk.”

“And exchange numbers!”

Chester’s mouth went agape.

“Yeah, I saw it,” she pressed. “I saw his hand around your wrist and the painful look on your face when he let go. I saw the way you leaned into him and whispered in his ear at the table. I saw the way he was staring at you… Chester, please, don’t go down this road. Not again.”

Chester stared at the highway and sighed. His mind was buzzing; heavy as if he’d been drinking the entire night though not a drop of alcohol touched his tongue. He hadn’t had a drink in three years and wasn’t about to start now. Though a glass of amber whiskey sounded delightful right at that moment with his sister’s hard stare burning into him like a… cigarette. Fuck he needed a cigarette. He pulled one out of his pack, reminded himself he needed to stop at the gas station tomorrow on his way to pick up Jude, and lit the end, exhaling loudly.

“Chaz?”

“Jaz?”

“Don’t be cheeky. Are you listening to me?”

He hummed. “I heard every word,” he promised.

She grinned that famous Bennington grin, a grin they’d inherited from their Dad’s dad, the one where a dimple sunk into pale cheek and made their entire being glow with mischief. Chester was stubborn, more so than Jaz, a trait they caught from their mother. Someone could lecture them until they turned blue only to learn that the Bennington siblings would, in the end, end up doing their own thing.

“You may have heard every word but I know you don’t care.”

“Of course I care. I just… you know…”

“Are you going to go?” She asked slowly.

He hesitated, unsure how much or how little his sister actually witnessed in Brad’s kitchen.

“On the date,” she confirmed. “I know he asked you.”

“I… I don’t know…”

Jaz sighed and sunk into her seat, staring out the window at the busy, blinding lights of downtown L.A., feeling homesick all the sudden for Arizona air. She had her brother at her side and for that she was grateful. But he wasn’t the same Chester she grew up with. The spark in his eye died long ago, his occupation and past a heavy dewdrop hovering above him, ready to pop and drown him back into that black abyss his irresponsible choices had set him in. He was no longer playful, no longer confident, any hope he held onto dissolved years prior. Jude was his strength. That’s where his joy, or what little left of it, was: in the eyes of a four year old boy.

And yet, when Jaz asked Chester about the date, she caught a glimpse of that mischief waving at her from behind his amber eyes. Chester was… happy? Thrilled? Excited? Whatever it was, it was an emotion other than sadness or grief. Was it fair for her to smash that to bits? Yes, it could end badly not just for Mike and Chester, but for everyone around them.

Chester punched in his code to the gate and pulled into their driveway, the massive three story home dark aside from the front porch light. He pushed a button on a remote attached to his visor and the garage door opened.

“You should bring your car in here tomorrow,” he said to her. “Don’t wanna leave it in this heat.”

“Right,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “What time am I to get Jude tomorrow?”

“I’ll pick him up. You relax tomorrow. I have to be there at noon.”

She nodded. “I’ll have lunch ready.”

“Thanks sis.”

He unlocked the front door and headed straight to the study while she headed for the spiral stairway. She paused at the step.

“What is it, Jaz?”

She peered at him from the stairs, her soft features dripping with regret and sympathy.

“I’m sorry I dragged you out tonight. I know that a lot of… memories got brought up and… I didn’t know…”

“How were you to know, Jaz? It’s ok, I promise. Go get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She bit her lower lip and asked, “You sure you don’t want any company?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Ok. Hey Chaz?”

He poked his head from behind the door and looked at his sister.

“Yes?”

“Don’t get lost in memories, bro. It’s ok to relive, but too much and you’ll never be able to escape the past.”

“I feel like the past has its own way of finding me as opposed to me finding it.” He pointed out with a grin.

“I suppose it does. Goodnight Chazzy-boy.”

“Goodnight Jazzy-girl.”

He waited until Jaz was out of sight until he shut the study door behind him, the scent of pine and paper engulfing him. He sat down at his wooden desk, unlocked the top drawer, and pulled out a hardback notepad, turning to a clean page.

 _Buzz_.

“Da fuck?”

 _Buzz, buzz_.

Chester reached into his back pocket. Who the hell would be texting him at two in the morning? He looked down at the screen and, for the God knows how many times that night, felt the blood leave his head.

 **(213)445-6335** : Hey, it’s Mike. Please tell me I have the right number…

 **(213)445-6335** : Oh, God, I have the wrong number…

 **(213)445-6335** : I’m so sorry

The corner of his lip upturned. _What a spaz…_

 **Chester B** : U hv the rgt numbr. I was gnna mess w/ u and tell u it was wrng but I felt bad b/c I can c ur a stuttring mess even in txt.

Mike smiled, leaning back in the lawn chair, listening to the waves wash along the shore.

 **(213)445-6335** : And I can see your grammar is awful, being a tech savvy and all I was expecting better from you.

 **Chester B** : Sorry to disappoint.

 **(213)445-6335** : Gonna take a lot more than that to disappoint me. And I see you do have good grammar.

 **Chester B** : You’re quite the smart ass safe behind your phone, aren’t you?

Mike laughed.

 **(213)445-6335** : LOL! Maybe I’m a smartass in person too. Guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself won’t you?

 **Chester B** : I guess so. Are you still at the party?

 **(213)445-6335** : No, left not too long after you. Too many people. Brad was drunk. Didn’t want to take care of his sloppy ass. I’ll let Michelle deal with that mess.

 **Chester B** : You’re savage. But I know what you mean. I can’t handle Brad’s drunk ass to save my life.

 **(213)445-6335** : Not savage, just impatient in my old age.

 **Chester B** : 32 is not old.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Unsend! _Fuck!_ I can’t unsend!” Chester cursed at the screen in his hand.

Mike looked down at his screen in confusion.

 **(213)445-6635** : How do you know I’m 32?

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ _Stupid_ , Chaz! Stupid!” He hit his forehead with an open palm. “Think of a lie, think of a lie…”

 **Chester B** : Brad must’ve mentioned it.

 **(213)445-6335** : Brad’s talked to you about me?

_“FUUUUUUCK!”_

**Chester B** : A couple times.

 **(213)445-6335** : Huh. He’s never mentioned you. How long have you two been friends?

Chester squirmed in his seat. _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ How much deeper was he going to dig this hole?

 **Chester B** : Met him at a party a few years ago.

 **(213)445-6335** : And he kept you a secret from me? I might have to punish that little twig later.

Chester beamed.

 **Chester B** : No need, I’ll do the honors. ;) What are you doing up this late anyways?

 **(213)445-6335** : I’m a night owl. Just sitting outside on the shore, watching the waves. I love the beach at night, don’t you? So quiet. No one around. Just me and the salt air.

Chester’s lips relaxed at the vision he created in his head: Mike sitting with his toes buried in the fluffy sand, the water washing over his naked, caramel calves, the breeze sifting through his night sky colored locks.

 **(213)445-6335** : Are you still there?

 **Chester B** : I’m sorry. Spaced out for a minute there.

Mike bit his lip.

 **(213)445-6335** : Thinking of?

 **Chester B** : You. The ocean. You and the ocean. You staring out into the ocean.

Mike chuckled.

 **(213)445-6335** : I see you can be a rambler too.

 **Chester B** : Never knew I could be until now.

 **(213)445-6335** : What are you doing up?

 **Chester B** : I’m in my home office doing some writing.

 **(213)445-6335** : Writing what?

 **Chester B** : Just… stuff.

Chester bit at his thumbnail and crossed his ankles on top of his desk. He stared down at the screen. A few minutes passed without an response.

 **Chester B** : Still there?

 **(213)445-6335** : Sorry. Spaced out.

 **Chester B** : Thinking of?

 **(213)445-6335** : You. Writing. You writing at a dark oak desk, your chin in your hand, eyes lowered and forehead scrunched in thought.

 **Chester B** : Rambler.

 **(213)445-6335** : Not this time.

 **Chester B** : Not this time? Then what are you?

 **(213)445-6335** : A dreamer.

Chester’s stomach flipped thrice over.

 **Chester B** : You dream often?

 **(213)445-6335** : Didn’t used to.

 **Chester B** : …

 **(213)445-6335** : …

 **Chester B** : …

 **(213)445-6335** : …

 **Chester B** : Go out with me.

“ _Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Unsend! Fuck, I can’t unsend! Shit!_ ”

 **(213)445-6335** : I thought you’d never ask. When?

 **Chester B** : Tomorrow.

“FUCK! What am I _doing_? UNSEND!”

 **(213)445-6335** : What time?

 **Chester B** : Five?

“SHIT!”

 **(213)445-6335** : As in two hours from now?

“Yes!”

 **Chester B** : I wish.

 **(213)445-6335** : Why not?

 **Chester B** : You’ll be asleep.

 **(213)445-6335** : Night owl, remember?

 **Chester B** : Right. Tell you what, if you’re awake at 4:30 I’ll head to your place.

 **(213)445-6335** : I’m awake now. I have a fantastic view of the beach, plenty of bottled water, and the night air is just perfect. We could watch the sun come up over the horizon.

Chester sighed and rubbed his eyes. He tore the skin from his lower lip with his teeth, began typing, paused with his thumb over the SEND button, cursing whoever hasn’t made an UNSEND button, and then pushed down.

 **Chester B** : What’s your address?

Mike smiled.

**********

Chester could hardly keep grip on his steering wheel as he followed the GPS giving him directions to the address provided. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and continued driving. Mike didn’t live too far from Chester’s, ten minutes tops, three roads away on a cozy little street just off the main highway. Trees outlined the drive, giving the house privacy, the neighborhood screaming _money!_ just like the many conjoining neighborhoods surrounding it. He pulled up to a two story modern home and could smell the ocean breeze through his open window. Chester parked the car next to Mike’s and reminded himself to breathe.

“Breathe, breathe, breathe, motherfucker. Fuckin’ breathe, Chester…”

Mike arrived out of the house, jogging down the stone steps, his heart thumping so porously against his breastbone that he was convinced the ivory would break apart and fly right out of his body.

“Walk, Mike, fuckin’ walk… Don’t trip…”

Should he tell Chester that he almost burned a hole into his floor while pacing in front of the door keeping an eye out for headlights?  _No, Michael Kenji, don’t be ridiculous. You’ll sound like a creeper._

Ok, reaching car, reaching car, car coming closer, door opening, Chester coming out of door, Chester in a white, v-neck clinging to his glorious chest. Fuck! Look away Mike! Not to the sky! At his face! Ah, yes… Hello beautiful amber eyes that glimmer even in the night. Hello beautiful smile that dimples when spread to the max.

“Hello.”

Chester shut his car door. “Hey. Nice digs.”

“Uh… thank you. Not mine, actually. It’s my uncles. Wouldn’t be able to afford a place like this on my own. Freelancer’s don’t exactly make bank.”

“Well, either way, it’s nice.”

“Thanks.”

They stood at arm’s length, Mike scratching the nape of his neck and Chester with his hands deep in his pockets. After a few, long moments of dragged silence, Mike cleared his throat.

“Anyways, the shore.”

“Right! The shore! Yes, yes. Lead the way.”

Mike nodded and waited until Chester was at his side before leading them around a stone walk into the backyard. Mike wasn’t kidding when he said that the beach was right there, maybe some fifteen yards out from the house. Chester gulped when he spotted a large blanket spread out with a cooler on top to keep it from blowing away. Mike reddened at once when he saw Chester’s hesitant expression.

“Was this too much?”

Chester shook his head immediately. “No, no. It’s lovely.”

_Lovely? Da fuck, Bennington?_

Mike gave a throaty laugh and sat down on the blanket, Chester following suit, their knees bumping, neither man willing to move away from the accidental contact.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“It is,” Mike agreed with a nod. “Spend most of my time out here. Too peaceful to let it go to waste, ya know?”

“Yeah. I have an ocean front too, not too far from this place, actually. It was a rather short drive from mine to yours.”

“I noticed. You arrived a lot sooner than I thought you would. Would you like something to drink? There’s um…” He started picking through the cooler. “Water, club soda, uh… juice. Fuck I don’t know, I just kinda threw shit in here.”

Chester laughed. “Soda is fine.”

“’K, here ya go.”

He handed Chester the can of cola, their fingers brushing in the exchange, Mike’s chin lowering to his chest, his face red like a rose on a thorn bush. Chester had to refrain from laughing at the man’s shyness, especially considering he was just as red, just as heated, as Mike, his fingers tingling from his touch.

“Tell me about yourself.”

Chester swallowed the soda, silently thanking the Gods for the cold liquid on his dry throat. Mike was staring at him intently with those gorgeous Japanese eyes that reminded him so much of ink.

“Not much to tell to be honest. Um, I was born and raised in Phoenix, Arizona and moved to L.A. when the Tech Core needed a new bitch and the rest there is history,” Chester laughed. “Met Brad at a Frat party, lived with him and Dave for some time until I saved enough money for my own place. At twenty-five I made it into the research department and then about four years ago I made the ‘great discovery’,” he said in finger quotations.

“Siblings?”

“A younger brother, Brian, and a younger sister, you met her tonight, Jaz.”

“Ah, yes, the firecracker Dave was ogling over.”

“Right. Remind me to kick his ass.”

Mike dipped his head back and laughed. Chester was hook, line and sinker at that laugh: so full, so heartfelt, not a fake laugh, or a forced one, but a laugh that made his entire body light up brighter than the fireworks Chester saw every time he looked into his eyes.

Mike settled back into a serious stature and asked, “Marriages? Kids?”

“No marriages,” he answered, picking at the tab on his cola can. “Engaged once. Long time ago.”

“What happened?”

Chester licked his lips and looked out towards the ocean.

“Just… didn’t work. Wanted different things, I guess.”

“How long were you together?”

Chester caught Mike’s eyes in his own and locked them there.

“Ten glorious years that I wouldn’t have traded for the world.”

Mike looked down at his lap.

“I’m sorry. You must’ve really loved him.”

“We loved each other.”

Mike was quiet, not knowing how to react to Chester’s confession. Of course this was all too good to be true. Here he was, thirty-two years old, single, a _great catch_ according to his friends and family. After almost a decade of the single life he was, _finally_ , ready to give something a chance, take that leap of faith everyone always boasted on about, and what happens? He leapt to a man who was so very, and painfully, irrevocably in love with someone else, that’s what. And while Mike had only known the man for less than twenty-four hours, he still couldn’t help but to feel the pain of a thousand shards of glass ripping apart his fragile, weeping heart.

Noticing his silence, Chester gently put his hand on Mike’s knee, coaxing him out of whatever thought was stealing him away at that moment.

“Hey, you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

Chester pressed on. “But?”

Mike took a deep breath and let it out. “Don’t take this the wrong way, especially because you don’t know me and I don’t know you but… Listen, I’ve spent many, many years in solitude, I can’t even tell you the last time I had a date. Hell, I could hook up my Memories to a television right now and skim through it all to you and the last ‘date’ you would ever see me on would be with Ricky Dane my freshman year of college. It’s not that I’m picky, or scared, I’ve just never met anyone that I’ve that, I don’t know, that ‘spark’ with you know what I mean?”

Chester shifted. “Yeah.”

“And my friends, my family, especially my mom, have been pushing me for years to find a nice man and settle down and adopt a couple of kids and move on with my life, but I can’t force myself to settle down with someone just because of pressure. I want love, I want a connection, I want a… _BOOM_ ,” he pulled his hands apart in a mock explosion, “kind of love, an unquenchable attraction, an unbreakable bond with someone that could survive a nuclear holocaust. And I never thought I would find that with anyone. Until…”

He stopped, his lips somewhat parted, his sights never once leaving Chester’s studious face as he was taking in every single word spoken, letting his heart soak them in like a sponge as soon as they left Mike’s tongue.

“Then you met me?”

Mike breathed a forced laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah. And I feel so… childish for saying this. Shit, I feel like a teenage girl following her crush around in the hallways between classes and slipping him love letters when he’s not looking. I’m pathetic. And I’m not one to ever really believe in instant attractions or love at first sight. But you, Chester,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, reaching up and pressing his fingertips against Chester's cheek. “I don’t know. It’s like I’ve seen you somewhere before. Not on the cover of a magazine, or in the newspapers, but somewhere faraway. It’s almost as if you’re familiar to me, like I’ve looked into your eyes for days or years or lifetimes before. And I know how stupid that sounds and I know I’m rambling and I’m not always such a rambler but I just can’t seem to slow down when I’m around you.”

Chester searched his eyes. It was taking a lot of strength, emotionally, for Mike to admit this to him. What did he do with such a thing?

“I… I…”

Mike gave a small nod. “It’s alright, Chester. You’re not ready. I get it.”

“Hold up,” Chester snapped, making Mike’s eyes pop open with surprise. “Sorry, didn’t mean to come off sharp. But listen to me,” he removed Mike’s hand from his face, the disappoint leaving him when Chester laced his fingers through his. _God, this felt good…_ “You have to understand that I was in love with someone for a long time. We… we had a future planned, a wedding date set, and things got fucked up and it was my fault that it fell apart. I hurt someone, Mike, I hurt them horribly and I wish every single day that I could go back and fix things and make them right again. I would literally rip my heart out if it meant having him back in my arms because I only needed one heart to survive: his. But that’s over, it’s done, and I’m ready to move on and I’m ready to try to love again. And if you’re willing to put up with my moodiness and aloofness and my fears and trials, then I’m willing to let myself open to you… overtime. Things have to be slow.”

He reached out for Chester’s other hand and Mike held them there, between them, his thumbs running over each and every one of Chester’s knuckles.

“I can do slow.”

A grin twitched his lips. “Me too,” Chester replied in a softness that made Mike’s stomach flutter. He didn’t move his hands from Chester’s, looking away from the handsome face and down at his fingertips glazing the pale skin beneath his shaking fingertips. The ocean roared beside them, the sea breeze cool against their flushed flesh, the moon high, full.

Chester wordlessly skimmed Mike’s serene facial expression, his lips pressed together tightly as he traced all the tiny detailed lines of Chester’s hands, flipping them until they were palm up, shivering as those skillful, tender fingertips danced in circles across his skin. His brow drew inward when he slipped the pads of his fingers up Chester’s wrists and outlined the outsides of the tattooed flames.

“Your skin is a perfect canvas,” he said, taking hold of Chester’s forearms and dipping his thumb into him. “You’re so warm…”

Chester’s eyes fluttered closed and he took a sharp intake of air as Mike’s lips grazed his right wrist. A rush of warmth spread over him whenever Mike breathed between each, carefully placed kiss, pecking downwards until settling in the slight dip of his relaxed palms. Mike slid his hands up and down Chester’s arms, elbow to wrist, and back up again. Chester peered through hooded lids at him, unable to speak, incapable of thoughts. A jolt shot throughout his entire body, almost as if Mike was the electrical spark that brought him back to life after being in a coma.

“I think you have the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen,” Mike remarked with a shake in his voice. Was he going too far? Was this too fast for Chester? He wasn’t stopping him despite his physical nervousness, his bones shaking with every caress of Mike’s mild discovery. He couldn’t contain himself. Since the moment they met he’d wanted nothing more than to touch that colorful splash of ink popping off of pale skin; his tongue on a rotating tingle at the thought of tasting him. Mike’s lips burned from the salty flavor and he licked his lips to gather up that taste, wishing it would remain there, strong on his tongue, for all eternity.

Chester was drowning in his own heartbeat. If he didn’t respond to the affection soon he was almost convinced Mike would pull away. He didn’t want him to pull away. He wanted to freeze time, have the world around them at a standstill, and live out the rest of their days in this one precious moment of Mike whispering sweetly onto his skin. Chester raised his left hand and ghosted over Mike’s chin, pushing down ever so lightly on his facial hair, the strands sharp against his sensitive skin. He felt his jaw line, his cheekbone, and paused when he reached the dip above his upper lip.

Mike sucked in a sharp breath before kissing the thumb on his lips. Chester lifted his jaw with a crooked finger, guiding him upwards until eyes instantly caught, locked, and held. Mike heard the crashing of water, the rising tides crashing against the next, and Mike could’ve sworn they were crashing in tune of their two racing heartbeats, that their passionate moment was affecting the natural ways of the universe, the electricity between them throwing the world off its axis in an unnoticeable yet trivial effect.

“What kind of life do you want, Chester?” He asked, his lips moving against his thumb.

He searched Mike’s glistening irises and saw the stars twinkling within them. So that’s where the stars lived…

“I want… I want an exciting life. One full of adventure and spontaneity. I want to wake up every day to see the universe shining inside my lovers eyes; witness the heat of a passionate kiss. I want a best friend who will not only be my partner in bed, but a partner in life, to be a witness to my faults, my achievements, my good and bad days, and still have that person love me just as much strongly as they did the day before. I want a love that will never wither away into comfort or boredom. I want fireworks and tidal waves.”

Mike smiled. “And midnight caresses, sweet whispered nothings, knowing glances across a crowded room.”

Chester closed his eyes and hummed. “I want to look at a stranger on the street and think ‘wow, how beautiful,’ only to realize that the stranger and the person I wake up to every morning are one in the same. I want a life of music--”

“And art--”

“And chatter of children--”

“Messy pancakes--”

“Trips to the beach--”

“Bubble baths beneath the moonlight--”

Chester felt a tear slip down his cheek.

“Open your eyes.”

Chester did as requested and saw hope and tranquility staring back at him. Mike leaned over, closing the space between them, and placed a feathery kiss beneath Chester’s cheekbone before then peering into his glassy, honey soaked hues.

“I can give you all that,” Mike promised him. “I can promise you romance and passion and laughter. I’d give you anything in the world, anything you want, because I want to see you smile.” He brought his mouth to his ear and whispered delicately, “I’ll give you the stars.”

Chester pulled away, his ear steaming from where Mike’s hot breath had been only seconds before. He curled his fingers around Mike’s neck, gently dragging his nails up and down his nape, adoring the soft hair living there.

“I don’t need the stars,” Chester told him in the same breathy whisper.

Mike raked his fingers through Chester’s hair and massaged the scalp beneath the soft, short locks.

“Then I’ll give you the moon. Or would you rather have the clouds? The sun?”

“No, Mike, I don’t need any of those things. I just want…”

He couldn’t finish. No way was he going to say that dreaded “L” word tonight.

Mike, however, had little to no fears. He had a feeling that a relationship with Chester Bennington was going to be a “now-or-never” type of deal.

“I promise you, Chester Bennington, that in given time, I _will_ make you fall in love with me.”

Chester smirked. “Why do I feel like you just made that your life goal?”

“Because… it is.”

 


	3. Chapter Three--Midnight Candlelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Look at me. Don't ever stop looking at me."
> 
> Chapter Three of Knowing Me, Knowing You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review? :) <3

**Chapter Three--Midnight Candlelight**

It was nearly six a.m. when the two men decided to call it a night. Mike walked Chester to his car, his hand bumping against his, the morning birds calling from a far distance, and dawning skies peaking their way through the blanket of ebony and stars, promising them a brand new day; a fresh day. Chester unlocked the driver’s door and halfway between in and out of the car, leaned over the top of the door, chin resting on his forearm, Mike staring at him in a way no one ever had before, as if they were the only two on earth; that the morning rose only to light up their faces for greater views of admiration.

Mike shoved his hands into his front pockets and bounced nervously on the tips of his toes.

“Soooo… Will I see you again?”

“I would assume so, yes,” Chester answered and pushed a stray strand of hair away from Mike’s brow.

Mike pushed his cheek into Chester’s open hand.

“I’ll be counting down the seconds.”

Chester shook his head, chuckling in disbelief. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

“Where the fuck have you been?”

He frowned. “… lost.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to find you.”

“I think you already have.”

“And if you lose your way, I’ll just find you again. I’ll always find you.”

His chest tightened. Chester touched the stubble trailing downward on Mike’s cheek, shivered when he pressed his lips on his skin, and slid into his car. Mike backed up a few feet, smiled past a biting of his lip, watching the car as it backed out of the driveway. He headed inside after the lights disappeared down the road.

Mike exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and threw his hands into his hair, craning his neck to look up at the rising sun. He squeezed his eyelids tightly and let a laugh echo around him.

“ _Wow_ … fuckin’ _wow_.”

He lowered his arms and headed inside. Taking the stairs two at a time, he stepped into his bedroom and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. The familiar man staring back at him in the mirror now seemed strange. A golden glow shone along his caramel skin, his once dull eyes now full of life and wonder, something he hadn’t seen in, well, ever. His heart kept pounding in his ears, making him lightheaded, and there was no slowing it down. Mike knew this could end badly and he tried not to think about it. Even if it did end badly, he at least had one night recorded inside that tiny chip behind his ear, granting him the gift of being able to relive this night as much as his heart desired; as much as his heart could handle.

He slipped into bed and glanced at his phone, his heart skipping an extra beat at the flashing screen.

**Chester B** : Made it home. Want to turn back.

**Chester B** : I can’t believe I just admitted that.

Chester pushed his head into the pillows and rubbed his forehead. This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this; shouldn’t be saying these things to Mike. Mike: a man putting his heart on his sleeve for Chester’s taking. Mike: a man completely unaware of Chester’s fuck ups. Mike: the most glorious, tender man Chester had ever known. One night was all it took for Mike to enter Chester’s head and curl up there, taking up all his thoughts, his sanity. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves and exhaled to slow his rapid heart.

**(213)445-6335** : Then come back.

**Chester B** : Tomorrow night.

**(213)445-6335** : Now?

Chester quietly laughed.

**Chester B** : You need your beauty rest. Can’t let those eyes lose their spark. Tomorrow night around 9?

**(213)445-6335** : Yes please. Hey Ches?

**Chester B** : Yes?

**(213)445-6335** : Do I have permission?

“Permission?” Chester asked to himself.

**Chester B** : Permission to…?

**(213)445-6335** : Rewind today?

“Oh…”

**Chester B** : Only the good parts.

**(213)445-6335** : The entire day was phenomenal.

**Chester B** : Not the party. My freak out moments are worth forgetting.

**(213)445-6335** : No. They just showed how full your heart is.

**Chester B** : I’ll make some room for you there.

**(213)445-6335** : Take your time. Goodnight Ches.

**Chester B** : Goodnight Mike.

Chester locked his screen. Turning onto his side he saw a stream of morning glow crashing through the cracks of the French doors. He closed his eyes and sighed, his mind boggled by the idea of Mike watching him behind his eyes, replaying his favorite moments from the previous day. The panic hit him like a freight train. No way was he to get any sleep now. He had to think, needed to feel the water on his skin, needed to search his heart and clear out a space big enough to fit Mike in there. Was there room left in his heart for him? Was he making promises he wouldn’t be able to keep?

“So many promises, so many ways to lose…”

He slipped out of bed, threw on a pair of shorts, opened the French doors and trotted down the stairway of the second story balcony. The morning was crisp and he inhaled the new day. He kept on walking until he felt the splash of cool ocean air on his ankles, his toes sinking into wet sand. Chester sat down in the shallows of the water and stretched out his arms, allowing himself to be submerged by the salty liquid. He didn’t need to have the remote in his hand, didn’t need to let the clear lenses cover his corneas in order to view the memory playing out inside his head. No, he saw it clearer than he saw the sun, as if it were happening right in front of him. He saw his past lovers face red from too much sun, his naked back sprinkled with sand, his arms open wide for Chester to fall into. He could still smell his skin stronger than the sea. He missed his warmth soother than sunrays.

“What do I do?” He asked no one. “Fuck do I do?”

“Hey, figured I’d find you here,” Jaz said behind him and he looked over his shoulder, spotting her concerned face. “Can I join you?”

He nodded and looked back at the Pacific. Jaz sat down beside him in the waves and shivered.

“Fuck this water is cold! How do you stand this?”

He shrugged. “Been living in California for years. Doesn’t faze me much anymore.”

She settled into the waves, leaning back on her elbows, dressed in a two piece, her pale skin similar in tone to her brothers shining from the multiple colored, pastel sky.

“Where’d you go last night?” She asked smoothly, kicking her feet with the waves.

Chester scoffed and shook his head. “How do you know these things?”

“Had trouble sleeping and went downstairs to get something to drink and saw your car pulling out of the drive. So where’d you go?”

He rolled his lips past his teeth and skimmed the ocean’s surface. How much did he tell Jaz? Trusting her was one thing, trusting her to keep her mouth shut was a whole other match in the gas tank. Not that she would ever say anything purposely but Chester knew his sister well enough to know that sometimes she didn’t think before speaking. If this ever got back to their friends he couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of feedback everyone involved would receive.

“You don’t even need to tell me,” she said. “I can tell by that weird, faraway look in your eye. Chaz,” she sighed heavily. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to you.”

“Nothing.”

“I can’t just not say something. This, what you’re doing, could change everything. Do you understand the gravity of this situation you’re heading into? Have you considered the cons? What if he--”

“I have considered the cons,” he interrupted calmly. “I hear the ticking of the bombs, believe me.”

“Then why chance it?”

“Because there’s pros too, sis. And I’m so fuckin’ done with the cons. The cons always win. How many times in the past three years have I been given a pro? Not too many,” he answered for her. “I have Jude, and you, and my friends, but honestly, can you give me a single pro in the last three and a half years?”

Jaz tilted her head to gaze upon her brother and in doing so, realized how crumbled he’d become compared to when they were younger. Chester was the hero of the family, the young gentleman who worked full time jobs while still maintaining a 4.0 GPA in both high school and college. He was the one to tuck her into bed and read her bedtime stories when their mom was on the midnight shifts at the hospital. He was the one to help her with her homework, to threaten her boyfriends, drop her off at cheerleading practice and pick her up after slumber parties. It was Chester who taught her to drive, to believe in herself, to never give up no matter what life throws. What was left now tore her heart in two: no longer strong, no longer confident, and running scared from everything and anyone who tried to get close.

And yet… there was a shimmer of hope there as he stared out into the rising horizon. Just like the mischief behind his eyes she saw waving at her last night. How his infamous frown was now upturned just a tad in the corners of his mouth. He needed this adventure in his life, yes, but at what cost?

“Chaz?”

“Jaz?”

“Look at me,” she paused until he did. “Here’s the deal, ok? I’ll keep your secrets because, well, let’s face it, you and I both know you’ve kept plenty of mine.”

“Freshman year, Phoenix University in the boy’s restroom?”

She sucked in her lips and hissed through her teeth. “You-swore-NEVER-to-mention-that-ever-again. I was drunk and the signs were mislabeled!” She took a deep breath and exhaled, dismissing her brothers chortle altogether. She continued. “Anyways, I think that what you’re doing is irresponsible and a threat to many, many lives.”

“Bu--”

She held up an index finger. “I’m not done. It’s irresponsible yet it’s also… romantic? And you know I’m a sucker for a good love story and you know what, Chaz? I do believe you’ve learned from your mistakes. You’re only a man, Chaz, not a God--”

“Debatable.”

She rolled her eyes and held back a laugh. “And I’ve watched you time after time kick yourself in the ass for those fuck ups. What I think you forget sometimes though is that not all of what happened was entirely your fault. He wanted it, he begged you for it, and you tried warning him of the consequences. The technology wasn’t up to par back then like it is now. You didn’t know that… that…” She exhaled through her nose, “that the results would be so dire. And I have difficulty comprehending as to why so many fingers are pointing at you. He’s living in an oblivious dream, Chester, and you’re living in a nightmare. You lost your one, true love, your soul mate. And to say that it was all your faul--”

“It was my fault. All of it, Jaz. The situation that led to the outcome of this goddamn almost four year long nightmare was _my_ fault, _not_ his. I fucked it up, Jaz. One petty fight and I go off and… and… do what I did? What kind of man does that make me?”

“You were hurt and scared and confused, Chester!”

“It was no excuse,” he said sharply. “There is absolutely no excuse for my actions. I should’ve waited it out. I should’ve talked to him instead of getting so fucking angry and doing something that I knew was going to tear us apart because I knew I couldn’t just lie to him! We told each other everything, even things that we knew could possibly hurt the other. Yet we somehow always worked through it and sought middle ground and somehow managed to wake up every single fucking day falling in love with each other all over again. Then I went and trashed it all over one goddamn petty ass argument. Not even an argument. It was a misunderstanding!”

Jaz lifted the ball of her shoulder and dried her falling tears. Chester never talked about that night much. He especially had never mentioned what the argument had been about. If he didn’t bring it up she sure as hell wasn’t going to ask.

“I have a second chance at something, Jaz. I never in a million years expected this to happen. For the first time ever I feel so dead inside but at the same time, so alive. My hearts pounding so quickly that I’m afraid I’m going to have to chase it down the highway and shove it back into my chest,” he put his fist to his breastbone and pounded. “My God, Jaz, I can feel again.”

She nodded. “I understand. I see it, Chaz, I really do. I’m just so, so, frightened for you, for both of you. It’s been one day and you’re in pieces. Take it slow.”

“I can’t help how I feel. I can’t help how I react.”

“No but you can control the pace.”

“And I plan to. I’ve already explained to him that things need to go slowly.”

Jaz grinned. “What you say and what you do are always a neck to neck battle, bro. You keep telling yourself that you’ll take things slow but I can almost bet you this ocean that it won’t happen.”

“No,” he disagreed, shaking his head slowly. “It’s… it’s different this time. I’m a different man now than I was back then. I’m not willing to risk throwing my heart on the line only to have it stomped on. Losing love once is hard enough. To lose it twice might, quite literally, put me in an early grave.”

Jaz looked up into the bright blue skies and watched as puffy clouds rolled by above them. She listened to the stomping marches of early morning joggers, the shrieking of children running towards the ocean and the shouts of concern from their protective mothers. She smelled the salty wind, tasted it on her tongue; doing anything in her power to drown out Chester’s words echoing in her head.

_“… put me in an early grave.”_

He was right; another failed attempt at love and Chester was good as gone. That is what Jaz feared the most.

**********

“Look who I got!” Chester exclaimed excitedly as he came crashing through the front door, his arms full with a backpack in one hand and a charming, dark haired, blue eyed boy in the other.

“Is that my little monster I hear out there?”

“Well yes, and Jude, too. Dang, sis, don’t be rude!”

Jaz came jogging into the foyer and smacked Chester on the shoulder. She took Jude out his arms who giggled in outstanding hysterics as his aunt placed a million kisses on his face.

“Dazzy, Dazzy!”

“Argh, I missed you so much, buddy! Did you have fun at Dalton’s?” She asked as she carried him into the kitchen. He put his finger up to his lips and nodded, his striking blue eyes wide. “Yeah? What’d you do?”

Chester set down the backpack and listened as his son spluttered on about bubbles and cakes and a pool. Jaz would occasionally answer with an _uh, huh_ , and _oh_! Chester shook his head and felt his left butt cheek vibrate. He pulled out his phone, unable to prevent a smile from stretching ear to ear.

**Mikey** : Afternoon.

**Ches** : Hi, handsome. How’d you sleep?

**Mikey** : Couldn’t. You?

He bit the corner of his lip and sat down next to Jude who was still going on and on to his Aunt Dazzy, now mentioning something about a duck float.

“And he _stole_ it from me!”

Jaz shook her head and jutted her hip to the side. “Well that wasn’t very nice! Did you tell his mommy what he did?”

Jude bobbed his head dramatically with a piece of bread dangling out of his mouth. “Uh-huh! I sur--”

“Baby, don’t talk with your mouth full, don’t want you to choke, ok?” Chester told his boy with stern concern and kissed the top of his head.

Jude swallowed his bread crust. “Sorry, daddy.”

“That’s ok, son. Thank you. Continue on with your story.”

“Welcome, daddy. But I did tell his mom an…”

Chester smiled and looked down at his phone.

**Ches** : Not a wink. Listen, give me like 30? Got some company over.

He waited a few minutes and when he didn’t get response, shoved his phone into his pocket and joined his son for lunch.

“Dad?”

 “Yes, baby?”

“Can I go swimming?”

“Sure, baby boy. You want to go to the beach or the pool?”

“Uhhh… erm…”

Jaz and Chester waited with bated breath as the young boy searched the ceiling in thought.

“Uhhhh….”

 Jaz shot Chester an _are you serious?_ expression in which Chester just shrugged and mouthed: _kids_.

“Beach! Wanna do sandycastles.”

“You want to make sand castles?” Jaz asked to clarify.

“Yes!”

Chester’s shoulders shook with a small laugh and he ruffled Jude’s shaggy head of curls.

“Go get your trunks on, sweets, and we’ll head out soon.”

Jude jumped out his seat, threw his hands up in the air and dashed for the stairs yelping “whoopee!” Jaz, her eyes the size of UFO’s, stared at Chester from across the table. Chester crossed his arms over his chest and smirked.

“I’m gonna have my hands full with that one, huh?” She asked.

Chester clicked his tongue. “Yep. Now swimsuit up, sis! We’ll clean this up when we get back. Don’t want to keep the Prince waiting.” He winked and then laughed as the color left his sister’s face. “It’s not that bad, Jaz. He’s a blast to be around. You’re twenty-eight, you have plenty of energy.”

“Ha! Says the guy who hits the snooze button ten times before getting out of bed.”

“I’m thirty-three! I have every reason to hit that godforsaken snooze!”

“Yeah, yeah, save it for Monday.”

Jaz followed him up the stairs and Chester shut his bedroom door. He fished for his phone and lit the screen, raising a questionable brow.

**Mikey** : Hmmmm… lover?

**Ches** : *looks around* I don’t see you anywhere.

**Mikey** : Your other lover?

**Ches** : You didn’t tell me you had a clone!

**Mikey** : Hardy-har.

**Ches** : Michael, you have nothing to worry about. I just have to spend some time with a little buddy of mine.

**Mikey** : … can I get a video of that?

**Ches** : Pervert!

**Mikey** : Just half of the time.

**Ches** : Only half? I’m somewhat disappointed.

Chester threw his phone on the bed and slipped into a dry pair of swim trunks and a muscle tee just as Jude pounded at the door.

“Daddy, daddy! Beach, daddy! Hurry!”

Chester smiled, shoved his phone into his trunks pocket, and dashed for the door, swinging it open and swooping up Jude high into the air. He cackled in his boyish lilt that made Chester’s heart overflow with admiration and an overpowering love he had yet to find with another human being. Jude was his everything; the sole reason he breathed. Nothing in the entire world compared to his curly waves that bounced when he took those tiny, quick steps to keep up with Chester’s long strides, or the way his tiny hand disappeared into his own when he reached out to hold it. Nothing made his veins surge faster than those azure eyes drooping tiredly during bedtime stories or the way his round cheeks puffed out when he laughed.

“Ready to fly, baby boy?”

“Yay!”

Chester ran down the stairs, making an airplane sound, Jude’s small arms stretched out wide as Chester dipped him low to the ground and then high up in the air. Jaz was behind them with a wide grin, the bond between father and son a vision rarely seen in their own childhood. Chester made sure to provide Jude with a life they never had, to shower his son in love and respect. He’d spent every free moment of his life playing toy soldiers, watching the same Disney movies on repeat for days or even weeks, singing silly songs, reading silly stories in silly voices. Jude took up Chester’s whole heart and for a fleeting moment, Jaz pondered whether or not there was any room left in there for someone else. Then again, Chester had plenty of love to go around, always had, he just hadn’t a chance to see it for himself.

Chester raised Jude onto his shoulders as they traveled down the small patch of grass that led to the beach, Jude clinging tight to Chester’s crown and smiling up at the skies. The beach was busy this afternoon, having been Saturday, and Jaz laid out her towel and handed a bag to Chester as he sat down beside her, setting Jude down between them. Chester rummaged through the tote, pulling out numerous and various buckets and shovels and handing them to Jude.

“Did Aunt Dazzy put sun block on you, baby boy?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright then,” Chester clapped his hands. “Let’s build this sandcastle!”

**********

Mike set his coffee mug down on at his work station and turned on the computer. He felt the pressure of a current projects deadline weighing heavy on his shoulders while the pressure of a man weighed heavy on his chest. It was hard to concentrate as Mike began to wander off into troubling thoughts. What did Chester mean when he said “little buddy”? Did he have a fling unbeknownst to Mike? Did he adopt a dog? Did he have a kid? No, Mike asked him about kids last night and he never mentioned any. Then again, not mentioning didn’t necessarily mean that he didn’t have any.

“Huh,” he hummed, gazing out to the seascape just outside his studio window. “Stop obsessing, Michael! Gawd!”

He shoved his paranoia to the side and opened up his latest art commission. Within minutes he was lost inside his own little world, a world consisting of careful outlining and blending of colors; a world where he felt safe and disconnected from everything else around him. It made the afternoon pass by like seconds and before he knew it, the sun was setting. He finished his work, relieved that tomorrow would be a day free of deadlines, opened freely for him to catch up on some seriously required rest. As of nine that morning he had been awake for twenty-four hours and his eyelids were heavier than two anchors.

Around seven-thirty he took a shower, brushed his teeth, spiked his ebony hair and sleeved into a white DC shirt and black shorts. He couldn’t find much to do to pass the time so he sat on the back porch with his sketchpad and began to doodle as the sun set before him. Just as his pencil was starting to create a familiar form, his phone buzzed and he reached over to the side table and glanced down at the screen, reading a message that made him smile like a goof.

**Ches** : Fixing to leave now. Need me to bring anything? Are you hungry?

Shit. Did he eat today?

**Mike** : Nope. All I need you to bring is your sexy self.

**Ches** : Well I’m here baby. Come get me.

Mike licked his bottom lip and ran around the side of the house, approaching Chester just as he was stepping out of his car. Mike didn’t slow down and he went crashing into Chester’s open arms. Taken aback by Mike’s actions, it took Chester a moment to relax his arms around his waist. He pressed the tip of his nose into that caramel neck and gently inhaled Mike’s natural scent mingling with a masculine body wash.  

With Mike’s mouth hovering over Chester’s ear, he whispered lightly. “You smell like the ocean. And sunscreen. And sun.”

Chester chuckled. “Sorry. Been at the beach all day. Didn’t have time to shower.”

“I don’t mind,” Mike purred, tracing the shell of his ear with the tip of his nose. “Damn, it’s too bad our Chips can’t save scents because this is one I never want to forget.”

Chester closed his eyes and smiled into the curve between Mike’s shoulder and neck. He twisted the hem of his white shirt and coaxed his fingers beneath, his fingers catching a spark at touching the smooth, tan skin hidden beneath. Mike shuddered at his touch, his flesh rising with tiny bumps despite the scorching heat.

“What are you doing to me?” He breathed before placing a single, airy kiss against Chester’s lobe.

He moaned deeply. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Mike snickered then nibbled down on the lobe. Chester fell forward, safe in Mike’s tight embrace, and groaned. He bit down on his lip and pushed into the small of Mike’s back, pushing him forward until their stomachs clashed, their body heat markedly hot even separated by layers of cotton. Chests rose and fell unsteadily accompanied by heavy breaths and bashful eye contact. Mike cleared his throat.

“We should probably head inside,” Mike suggested. “As much as I hate to say…”

“As much as I hate to agree, you’re probably right.”

They reluctantly pulled away from each other and Mike reached for his hand, leading him up the drive and up the stone stairs into the house. Chester removed his converse and placed them next to an empty spot on a shoe rack above Mike’s DC’s. Music was playing somewhere off in another room and Mike led the way past the living room and into the kitchen.

“Make yourself at home,” Mike told him, kissing his knuckles with a smile before opening the fridge.

Meanwhile Chester took a seat at the bar and swiveled from side to side, the chair rotating along with him, head cocked to one side, his eyes darting to Mike’s lean, muscular legs and firm backside as he searched the shelves. Mike shut the door with his hip, a few items in his hands, and raised his eyebrows at Chester.

“Gonna rewind that view when you get home?”

Chester went crimson cheeked at once. “I… I… erm… can I?”

Mike’s shoulders shook in amusement as he went about grabbing cookware. He kept the pans in the lower cabinets and, fully aware of Chester’s gawking, he bent down, grabbed the frying pan, and very, very slowly stood back up.

“Ok now you’re just being a dick.”

Mike threw his head back and laughed. “You started it,” he warned over his shoulder, giving the pouting man a wink before turning back to the stove. Chester hopped off the barstool and sauntered over to where Mike was now cutting up some veggies. He placed his hands on his waist and leaned in, his chin on Mike’s shoulder, watching as his long, elegant fingers pushed down on the knife and held the tomato.

“Whatcha makin?” He asked.

Mike faltered where he stood when he felt the delightful warmth of Chester’s breath on his neck.

“Nothing if you keep doing that.”

“Man, now I’m just debating on whether or not I should keep teasing you or let you cook. Because I am super hungry but in two completely different ways.”

Mike set the knife down and rotated inside Chester’s arms. He hadn’t realized how close they were until Mike had to lean back to focus on the handsome face in front of him, Chester’s lips in a visibly small smile, his amber eyes torn between closing the distance between them or keeping it casual. Unable to decided, Chester was more than thankful when Mike said:

“How about I cook you dinner first and then we can discuss other matters?”

A raspy groan rumbled in the depths of Chester’s throat as he dragged his nose into Mike’s goatee. His fingers skipped over his clothed chest, the tips dancing a ballet along his breastbone before settling on the side of his neck. He heard Mike suck in a breath and breathed it out through his nose. Mike was gripping into the counter behind him, unsure what to do with his hands, how far to take this. His lips were quivering, dying to overtake the mouth of the beautiful brunet who was now running his cheek across Mike’s, their stubble scratching in a delectable sensation that caused his spine to tighten.

“I’m sure that whatever you make isn’t going to taste nearly as good as you.”

Mike squeezed his eyelids tight and, with every fiber of his moral being, pushed Chester away with a light hand. Chester stared at him questionably, his lips glistening from where he had licked them.

“Slowly,” Mike reminded him in a mild coo. “Slowly, love.”

Chester hung his head and he scoffed. “Me and my stupid ass rules.”

Mike chucked him under his chin and Chester looked up.

“It’s not a stupid rule.”

“Yes it is. You really shouldn’t listen to me, ya know? I’m not usually good with boundaries.”

“Then I’ll be sure to set them for the both of us. We’re not fucking this up, Ches. You got me?”

All his joking aside, Chester, taking Mike’s hands in his, nodded, looking into his eyes. “I got you, Michael. No fucking this up.”

He placed a soft kiss on Chester’s forehead then set about making dinner while Chester sat at the barstool, watching him, the smell of cooked tomatoes and cheese filling the kitchen while the subtle scent of ocean breeze coming in through the patio window washed over them.

“So we didn’t get to talk much about you the other night,” Chester told him as Mike set a plate of stuffed tomatoes in front of him. Dark ink eyes stared up at him through sets of thick lashes. “What do you like to do for fun? Do you have siblings?”

Mike settled next to Chester at the bar and cut into his tomato. “I have a brother, Jay, younger than me. He’s married to a girl named Jane and they have a son, Luke, and a daughter, Jillian. I’m half Japanese on my father’s side, his name is Muto, mother is Donna. I grew up in Pasadena, went to Art College in Pasadena, and started my own freelancing graphic design business called Machine Shop.”

“What brought you to L.A.?”

Mike stilled. He looked down at his plate as if the answer were there somewhere hidden in a hollowed out tomato stuffed with four different kinds of cheese. “Uh… man, this is gonna sound whack, but I don’t really… remember what brought me to L.A. I mean, my family is still in Pasadena. I don’t… it must’ve been the work, I suppose,” he answered slowly, turning to Chester at his left who was looking at him strangely. “You think I’m crazy?”

Chester shook his head. “No, no, that’s not what I was thinking at all. I just, I dunno, feel kind of bad that you can’t remember.”

Mike shrugged and went back to his tomato. “Well, I mean, my friends are here so it only makes sense that I would find my way back to them. My brother has his own family to worry about and my parents are well past retirement so they’re always off traveling or going on cruises or whatever it is people their age do,” he laughed. “But anyways, that’s pretty much it for me. I’m kind of a boring person. I usually just sit at home and work on my art or music or whate--”

“Music?” Chester cut in, fascinated.

“Uh… yeah… I have a tiny home studio in the spare room. Nothing major. Just a few decks, computer programs, stuff like that. I’m not really the best singer but I like to emcee a lot, not even sure if I’m good at that. Why?” He asked Chester directly. “Do you play guitar or sing?”

Chester cut into his food and answered with a bashful smile. “Both.”

Mike snickered and touched his fingers to Chester’s temple. “You are adorable when you’re shy, you know that?”

Chester looked up at him. “These tomatoes are delicious.”

“Way to change the subject. Old family recipe. When we’re done do you want to go into the spare room and play around?”

“Thought we were taking things slow?” Chester asked with a crooked brow in which Mike playfully smacked him across the arm.

“With the music equipment. Get your head out of the gutter.”

“Good luck getting me to do that. Have you taken a look at yourself lately?” He skimmed over Mike’s long figure, licking his bottom lip as his eyes trailed over his bare calves and tight chest covered in tight, white cotton. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Mike grinned and cleared his throat, taking Chester’s empty plate, and heading off to the sink where he dumped them.

“Now who’s the shy one?” Chester teased.

Mike didn’t say anything as he rinsed the plates, trying his damndest to hide his flushing face. He didn’t hear the scrapping of the stool against tile or the sound of Chester’s soft steps behind him. He leaned over, pressing his stomach flat against Mike’s back, and scooped his arms around his stomach. Mike bit the corner of his lip and stood up, drying his hands with a towel before lacing his fingers through Chester’s around his stomach. He angled his head to the side, grinning when Chester’s breath hit his lips.

“You’re starting a habit of sneaking up on me,” he whispered to the brunet.

“Mmm, can’t help it. You’re nice to hold.”

“You don’t need to sneak up on me to hold me, ya know.”

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t like this?” Asked Chester.

Mike turned in his arms and pushed his forehead against his, his hands cupping his shoulders, a shuddering sensation of Chester’s fingers pressing into his sides. Brown eyes met brown eyes and Mike grinned, letting out a breathy sigh of contentment whenever Chester would bring him closer, their hips in a whispering touch.

“I like this better,” Mike admitted.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I can see your face.”

Chester closed his eyes and placed Mike’s face in his hands, his fingertips exploring his caramel skin, his high cheekbones, that soft patch of hair on the nape of his neck. When had they started swaying? Back and forth… back and forth… When had Mike started humming? Mmm, Mike’s singing. Chester dragged his nose over Mike’s.

“Looked in the ocean, looked to the sea, found him often watching for me…”

Chester shuddered at Mike’s warm breath on his face, his lips grazing his.

“Kept the door open, kept the door wide, where he often kept it inside…”

He went back to humming in what Chester thought to be a quicker beat in comparison to the slow rhythm he’s been singing against Chester’s mouth. Chester took a step forward, bringing their bodies in even closer, something he hadn’t thought possible until that moment. Mike preceded his hum and ran his fingers through Chester’s hair, their eyes closed, bodies rocking in place and cooled by the harsh breeze coming in through the open windows, promising incoming rain.

A crack of lightening shot through the sky and Mike pulled away when the thunder crashed. They looked at each other in matching surprise and then laughed when another crash of lightning and thunder shook the house. The lights began flickering a few times until shutting down entirely.

“Welp, so much for the studio,” Mike joked. “I’ll go get the candles.”

Chester stood in the dark with a grin. “How romantic.”

Mike shook his head, smiling, and felt his way through the kitchen for the cabinet above the stove. He reached up into it, pulling out various sizes of candles. He felt Chester’s fingers at his back and Mike flattened his feet and rotated until he was face to face with Chester, the feeling of his cheek against his. Mike melted into the embrace at once, his arms falling over Chester’s shoulders with the candles still in his hands grip.

“Mikey?” He whispered in his ear.

“Hmm?”

“I really wanna kiss you.”

“And I really wanna kiss you, too.”

“So why haven’t we?”

“Because,” Mike answered after a roll of thunder, his lips pressed into Chester’s hair. “We said we were taking things slow.”

With that he said he lit the candles, Chester’s alabaster skin glowing orange from the rising flames as Mike led them into the living room. He sat down on the couch with Chester beside him, both men sinking into the cushions and creating the same kind of groans of relaxation. They laughed, Mike setting the candles down on the coffee table.

“Either we’re both just really, really old or really, really tired.”

Chester gave him a sideways glance and said, “I think it might be a bit of both.”

“Mmm, I don’t think I’ve stayed up this long since high school.”

Chester nodded. “I feel you. I’m exhausted. It’s been… uh…,” he stopped and took Mike’s hand, catching his eyes in the candlelight, their breaths hardly heard over the storm. “It’s been worth it though.”

Staring down at their conjoined hands, Mike ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “It has. I can’t seem to… get you off my mind,” he admitted, the burning flames echoing inside his eyes as they snuck up to inspect Chester’s face, enthralled to find him staring back as well. “What would you say if I told you that I’ve never, erm, never…”

“Felt this way for someone?” Chester guessed and waited a few seconds until Mike nodded. Chester smiled. “I’d say that I’ve been feeling exactly the same way.”

Mike searched his brown hues. “It’s not too fast?”

“It might be,” he shrugged. “But, you know, life is so short and the years go by so fast, why waste the minutes?”

“Yet we’re ‘taking it slow’.”

Chester laughed. “I know. It doesn’t make sense, does it? Listen, Mike, I haven’t done this in a long time and I just want to make sure that I’m doing it right. I don’t want to make a mess of things, not with you. You just tell me when you want me to kiss that smile off your face and I’ll do it. Until then, I’m afraid this is all I can give you.”

“I can accept that,” Mike said, holding his hand. “Just as long as I can touch you like this. I can’t help but feel the need to keep touching you.”

“You can keep touching me. I… I like it when you touch me.”

Chester went quiet although he didn’t look away, couldn’t look away. He was transfixed on how his gorgeous, caramel skin was alive with shadows created by the candles dancing next to them. There was something fascinating about the way his hands twitched whenever Mike explored them with his own slender fingers and how his breathing hitched whenever Mike would lazily blink at him. Mike noted his stillness and, very carefully, let go of Chester’s hands and grabbed his arms, pulling him towards his body as Mike laid back into the couch.

Chester held his breath as he fell onto Mike’s body, his lower half snuggled between his legs. They were forehead to forehead, and Chester released his inhale, his chest meeting in sync with the rising and falling of the chest beneath him as they got lost in one another in the dim light. Lightning was striking the grounds, the walls shook from the horrendous thunder, and the rain was pitter-pattering on the rooftop yet despite all that, Chester could hear Mike’s soft intakes of air and feel his quivering body against his own.

“Is this ok?” Mike asked him with a shaking lip.

Chester nodded. “Yeah.”

A small smile spread across his lips and Mike began drawing small circles on Chester’s lower back over his t-shirt. He moaned gently onto Mike’s mouth, his tongue darting out to lick his own lips though the wet muscle accidently caressed between Mike’s parted pout, causing him to groan.

“Sorry,” Chester apologized quickly and tossed his head to the side.

“Look at me. Don’t ever stop looking at me.”

Chester turned back to face Mike, their eyes instantly meeting in a curious, hungry gander that made Chester weak in the knees. He was ever so thankful that he wasn’t standing because he would’ve hit the ground, and hard, no question about it. He leaned on his elbows on either side of Mike’s head and touched his ebony hair, twisting random strands between his thumb and middle finger, presenting Mike’s indolent smile with one of his own.

Fingers pressed past the hem of cotton and soon Mike’s was touching his skin, Chester purring from the touch, arching his back into the palms against his skin, needing to feel more, his lips aching to touch, taste, tug at Mike’s beautiful mouth. Chester reached down between them and pushed Mike’s shirt over his stomach. Mike slid his right hand around Chester’s side and to his front, pulling the fabric up, then releasing a long, drawn out sigh as their chests met, flesh to flesh, their body temperature at a raging heat that made Mike’s throat tighten with suffocation.

“Mmmm… that feels fuckin’ nice,” Mike managed to say, his words a sharp mumble against Chester’s neck.

Chester hissed and dragged the tip of his tongue over Mike’s adam’s apple. “You have no idea…”

They kept their actions slow with a hand brushing over a hipbone, or a tongue grazing over a jaw line, fingers slipping through hair and lips ghosting over lips, never once pressing down nor invading the others space. Legs became a tangled mess. Mike would occasionally run his barefoot over Chester’s leg or heel. He’d melt when Chester would breathe an inaudible chuckle through a tiny grin.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, you know this right?”

Mike shook his head, pushing his nose into Chester’s cheek. “No, but I do know that you’re an incredibly easy on the eyes,” he smoothed his hands down his back. “I could lay here for weeks just touching you and looking at you. God, where have you been my whole life? You’ve been right there, the entire time, and I never even knew.”

Chester felt his heart drop into his stomach. All around them the storm was increasing, the winds slamming into the side of the house, the palm trees were rustling and the tides crashing against one another in a deadly roar. And it wasn’t the storm that frightened him, no; instead it was the whirlwind of emotions flashing back at him written all over Mike’s beautiful, elegant face and eyes: love, infatuation, lust, sadness…

“I should probably go home before this storm gets too bad.”

Mike’s demeanor melted into disappointment and he hoped Chester didn’t notice. But of course he did. Mike felt as if he couldn’t hide anything from this man no matter how good he thought he could hide it.

“It’s nothing against you,” he promised, running the back of his fingers along his cheek. “You’re… you’re fuckin’ perfect, in every single way, Michael. I couldn’t have asked for a better two days. You’ve brought out the best in me; a me that I didn’t even think was inside here,” he pointed to his own chest, “anymore. You just… wow, you amaze me. Every part of you,” he was whispering now and he rested his lips onto Mike’s forehead and said, “Your mind,” he kissed his closed eyes, “your eyes,” he kissed his nose, kissed his chin, “you’ve brought sunshine into my dark world.”

With his eyes still closed, Mike rolled his lips past his teeth and exhaled through his nose. He blindly moved his hands up Chester’s waist and found his neck, cupping his face, peeking at him through half-opened lids.

“Don’t leave me,” he pleaded, not meaning for it to come out so pathetic. After all these years and he finally found someone he never wanted to let go of. He was here, in his arms, adorning him with those honey eyes tracing his own in the space between them. He could smell him, taste him, feel him, feel his pounding heart through their bones, its pulse stronger than every grumble of thunder in the near distance.

“I’ll never leave you. I’m always with you. I always have been.”

Mike’s forehead scrunched at his whispered words but before he had an opportunity to ask on it, Chester rolled off the couch and stood over a confused Mike, rubbing the nape of his neck mindlessly, avoiding eye contact with the beautiful man staring up at him in a desperate manner. Mike would’ve given his very life if it meant having Chester with him for an entire night. Still, there was always tomorrow. Right?

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Mike finally said.

He sat up on the couch and stood before Chester who put his palm flat on Mike’s chest, feeling a heartbeat kick against his bones.

“It’s raining out, you’ll get sick. Just walk me to the door?”

Mike nodded and followed Chester into the hall. He leaned up against the wall as Chester slipped on his black chucks then straightened out his shirt, his hand on the door, the other reaching out for Mike, their fingers slipping together.

“I wish you’d wait until the storm died down a bit. It’s a monsoon out there,” Mike told him.

“I’ll be all right. It’s a ten minute drive. Will I uh… see you tomorrow?”

Mike smiled. “If you want to.”

“Of course I want to. Same time?”

“Ok. Um… would you rather go see a movie or go out to dinner? My house is kinda boring and I’m sure I’m boring. I mean, I don’t mean to be so boring, it’s just that I enjoy spending private time with you and I’d be more than happy to cook dinner and we can have said dinner at the shore or on the back porch, or in the kitchen or--”

Mike was cut short when Chester pressed his lips to his tenderly. Mike froze, eyes wide open, his one hand still in Chester’s, the other closing and opening, unsure what to do with itself. Chester pulled away and a grin befell his lips at Mike’s stunned expression.

“We might have to work on your nerves a bit.”

“If that’s your plan to stop them then I’ll keep rambling,” he confessed with a cheeky smirk.

Chester chuckled. “Goodnight, Michael.”

“Goodnight, Chester.”


	4. Chapter Four- Everything Is Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And then you speak to me, and everything gets easy..." ***WARNING***CHAPTER IS RATED NC-17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read and Review?

** Chapter Four-Everything is Easy **

Their hands fell apart as Chester opened the door, taking one last glace over his shoulder at Mike before getting in his car and taking off down the road. Mike shut and locked the front door, leaned back on it and closed his eyes, releasing a sigh. He felt as if he were floating on a batch of clouds as he locked the rest of the house and headed upstairs to his room, opening the balcony door and taking a gigantic whiff of the ocean breeze mixed with rain.

He got ready for bed and slipped underneath the covers. He grabbed the small, silver remote from his bedside, clicked a button and felt the clear lenses slide over his pupils. He rewound the day, resting on a Memory of Chester hovering over and smiling at him in the candlelight; touching him, exploring his body with tender fingertips and tasting his skin with the tip of his tongue.

 _Buzz_.

Mike turned off the moving Memory, his eyes adjusting to the darkness surrounding him and grabbed his phone off the side table.

 **Ches** : Made it home. Still wanted to turn back.

 **Mikey** : Then stop thinking and do it. I’m in bed, nearly naked.

 **Ches** : Fuck, don’t tease me like that. Wish I could see that. I bet the rest of you is just as beautiful as your face. I bet your skin is so soft. Are you ‘watching’ me?

Mike groaned, feeling his lower belly tense, the muscle between his legs twitching.

 **Mikey** : I was, yes.

 **Ches** : Mmm, that’s fuckin’ hot. What were you watching?

 **Mikey** : You on top of me, your tongue on me.

 **Ches** : I’m gonna call you.

Mike sat up on his elbows. Why was Chester calling him? Was he disgusted with him? Should he not have admitted that he was watching him behind his lids? His phone buzzed and Mike, with a shaking hand, brought the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello, handsome. Should I not have called you? Are you too tired?”

“No, no, I’m good,” Mike assured, sitting all the way up in his bed, the pressure between his legs simmering. “Is there something important you wanted to tell me?”

“Well, I just figured that… you know… that if you’re going to be _looking_ at me I might as well _listen_ to you.”

Mike shifted in the sheets. “Huh?”

“Don’t play innocent with me, _Michael_. I want to hear you.”

Mike bit the corner of his lip. “Whadda mean?”

Pause.

“When you touch yourself, Michael. I want to hear it.”

Mike cursed under his breath when his cock twitched at Chester’s purring request. He wasn’t planning on doing that tonight, he was far too tired. That is, until now…

“What about taking things slow?”

“I’m not touching you,” Chester pointed out. “Nor am I looking at you. I think listening to you touching yourself is appropriate.”

Mike snorted. “I’d say it’s downright _inappropriate_ , Mr. Bennington. _Very_ , _very_ , _inappropriate_.”

“Mmmm, am I being a _dirty_ boy, Mikey?”

“Fuck,” he sputtered, shoving his hips off the mattress.

“What was that?”

“I said ‘fuck’!”

“Is that what you want to do to me?”

Mike threw his head back into the headboard and desperately tried to keep his moans intact only to have them slip past his parted lips in a low, throated grumble.

“God, that’s hot. Moan for me again.”

“Mmmmm. This isn’t fair. You have to do it too.”

“…who said I wasn’t already?”

“FUCK!”

“You have quite a filthy mouth, Mr. Shinoda.”

Mike grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know how filthy my mouth can get?”

He heard Chester hiss, his breathing coming in through the receiver in wisps, driving Mike wild.

“What do you want to do to me?” Mike asked lowly.

“Mmmm… I want to kiss you deeply, shove my tongue into your mouth and taste you at last. I’ve been dying to kiss you. It’s killing me not to.”

“What else?”

“I’ll tell you more when you do what I demand.”

“Oh? And what do you demand?”

“Get naked. Now.”

Mike held the phone between his shoulder and cheek and slipped his boxers off, tossing them mindlessly across the room.

“Are you naked?”

“Yes.”

“How can I trust you?”

“Would you like me to send you a goddamn picture?”

“Tempting, but no. I want to be surprised when I see you for the first time. God, I can just imagine that tan skin sliding against me. Mmmm… _fuck_ yeah, I can’t wait to have your _hard_ , _thick_ cock grinding against mine. The heat of your body… shit… Touch your chest for me.”

Mike was shaking. He’d never done something like before and Chester’s sexed voice grounding in his ear was by far the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced. He ran his hand over his collarbone and down his breastbone, scratching his chest hair lightly with his nails, closing his eyes, imaging it was someone else touching him, the same someone who was moaning into the phone, continuing with his demands.

“Mmmm… pinch your nipple for me.”

He pushed the pad of his thumb into his nipple and then pinched, rotating the nub in his fingers until it sprung to life.

“Fuck, Chester, I want you to get in your car right fucking now and fucking fuck me into this mattress.”

“Gawd, Mike, don’t tempt my demons. I’m trying to behave.”

Mike thrashed his head back and forth, digging his toes into the bed, bucking his hips while keeping his fingers busy on his nipples.

“You’re not behaving very well right now.”

“Only because you make me naughty, Michael. So fucking naughty. My cock is aching for you; for your mouth. I want to feel your mouth around me, taking me in all the way to back of your throat. I want to grip your hair as you’re going down on me; want to watch your head bob as you take me in over and over…”

“Oh my god, why are you doing this to me?”

“Are you a receiver, Mike?”

Mike paused and asked. “What?”

“Have you ever had a cock in your ass?”

“Um… no,” he answered almost shamefully.

“Fuck that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. Here’s what I want you to do for me. Are you listening?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wait… I’m gonna FaceTime you.”

“What?! Ches!”

Chester hung up before Mike could get in another word, staring at the blank screen, dumbfounded. The phone then flashed back to life and he stared at it for second, debating on whether or not to answer it, the variety of thoughts in his head a tornado, Chester’s demands questionable. At last he accepted the FaceTime invite, his heart racing, then slowing, like the calm before the storm. Mike exhaled at the vision of Chester’s face half lit by a soft orange glow coming from the left, a black, leather headboard behind him. Chester smiled widely, the dimples in his cheeks deeply indented in his cheeks.

“There’s that handsome face I can’t get out of my head,” Chester greeted. “God, I can’t seem to go one second without seeing you.”

“Well we are equipped with visions,” Mike pointed out shyly.

“It’s never the same, is it?”

“No, you’re right, it’s not.”

Mike’s eyes trailed from Chester’s face and down his neck, transfixed on his collarbone playing peek-a-boo from the edge of the screen.

“Whatcha lookin’ at there, darling?” Chester sang.

Mike flushed and looked away. “Nothing.”

“Now’s not a time to be shy. Especially because I’m going to be asking you to do some _dirty_ , _dirty_ things for me.”

“… I don’t know if I can. I’ve never done this before.”

“Then we’ll go slow,” Chester promised. “Firstly, I want to see you better. Do you have a bedside light?”

“Power is still off. You have electric?”

“No, battery lamp. Light some candles then.”

Mike nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here,” came a husky response followed by a suggestive wink.

Mike stared at him, wide eyed, and then forced a quick nod. He set the phone down and raced into the bathroom. He came back into the bedroom and lit three candles then set them on the bedside table. He settled back onto the bed, pulling the sheet up his waist and faced the phone towards him, his jaw dropping at the awaiting sight. Chester, his throat exposed to Mike by a slight dip of his head, was moaning gently, his left shoulder rolling to and fro, and Mike knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oooo, fuck me,” Mike mumbled, his cock springing to its fullness beneath the white sheets.

Chester peered at him through hooded eyes. “I want to so badly,” he said, biting his lip provocatively. “I want to slip inside you so badly; fuck you so hard into next year. But that’s not how I would treat you the first time.”

Mike cocked a brow. “No?”

“No. You wanna know how I’d treat you?”

Mike rolled his lips past his teeth and nodded.

“Bring your fingers to your mouth,” Chester whispered. “And I’ll show you.”

Mike didn’t respond right away, didn’t move at all, in fact, until Chester squeezed his eyes shut, his shoulder rotating faster than before, and Mike could hear the sound of skin on skin in the background.

“Fuck, Mike! _So_ _good_ …”

“Shit…”

Mike shoved his right index and middle finger into his wet mouth. Chester opened his eyes and groaned at the sight on the other end of the phone. He followed those two, long fingers sliding in and out of Mike’s mouth, his hand on his cock increasing as he imagined replacing his fingers with his hardness.

“Spread your legs far apart, Mike. Don’t be shy. You don’t have to show me anything but your face.”

Mike’s eyes popped open. Chester couldn’t be serious? Oh, he was serious. _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Chester slowed down his hand, gently coaxing his cock, and Mike parted his knees, his mouth quivering along with his body. What Chester said next was said with such admiration and in a tone that compared to a lovers caress. There was love in his eyes as he said it, and a smile playing on his lips, not a menacing one, but a cooing smile that could make the devil fall to his knees.

“Put them inside yourself, darling.”

Setting his hesitation to the side, too turned on to care at this point, Mike brought his wet digits between his cheeks, his sights deadlocked on Chester who also couldn’t look away as he was too eager to see the pleasure on Mike’s face. Mike adjusted himself, spreading himself further for better access, and pushed one finger deep inside. His chest dropped and he exhaled a mighty shriek, Chester moaning his encouragement.

“Fuck that’s so hot, Michael. How does it feel? Look at me and tell me how it feels.”

Mike straightened out his neck and caught the flickering hues of honey staring at him. Chester left a trail of saliva on his lower lip as his shoulder began rolling once again, faster than the times before.

“It feels _fuckin’ fantastic_ , Ches.”

“I bet it does. I bet you’re tight.”

“Oh, I am, baby, _so_ tight; _virgin_ _tight_ ,” he answered, pronouncing the last two words so sharply that it cut through Chester’s chest like knife and down into his groin.

“Shit, keep talking like that and I won’t last much longer. How many fingers are in there?”

“One.”

“Put another in,” he said. “Now, Michael!”

Mike made some room in his ring for a second finger and he pushed, his eyelids shut at the feeling of his opening tightening around his fingers.

“Move them… slowly…”

Mike did so at once, whimpering into the air, opening his eyes to see Chester’s glossy eyes through the camera, his teeth exposed as he hissed and moved his hand up and down his cock in the same pace of Mike’s moving shoulder.

“This is how I would make love to you, Michael. So slow and so gentle. I would take my time with you, exploring every single inch of your glorious body, kissing and licking you from your beautiful toes all the way to your lips. I would jack you off slowly while dipping my tongue into your entrance, tasting the heat there…”

“Oh, fuckin’ a, Ches… I need… I need to touch myself…”

“Do it, love, do it. Come for me.”

Mike slipped his fingers out of his body and wrapped them around his raging, aching cock. Chester practically screamed when he saw Mike’s eyes close at the touch of his own hand.

“Don’t you dare look away from me, Michael!”

Mike’s eyes pried open at the demand and he stared straight into the screen, his hand pumping along with Chester’s pace, neither man showing each other their bodies and focusing on their facial expressions as a sole source for release.

“Do you want me to make love to you?” Chester asked him.

“Fuck yes I do. So, so, much. I want to be one with you, Ches. One heart, one soul, one body…”

“Mmm… I want that too, baby. My body’s aching for you.”

“My soul is aching for you.”

“I want you.”

“You can have me.”

“Promise?”

“I fuckin’ swear.”

“Come for me.”

“I’m so close.”

“Faster, baby. And _don’t_ look away from me! Eyes on me!”

They went quiet then and focused on the pleasure, the two men drowning in a sound of skin, moans, groans, whispered encouragements, one pair of eyes challenging the other. It didn’t take long for Mike to sense that familiar bubbling deep within his belly and the tingle that followed.

“I’m there,” he told Chester between breaths.

“Fuck yes, babe, fuck yes. Come for me.”

“Ugh! You’re so hot.”

“So are you! Oh my God, the hottest there ever was and ever will be. I want to be deep inside of you. So deep… Say my name when you--”

“CHESTER! FUCK!”

At that, Mike arched his back and came harder than he ever remembered having come before, and spilled out all over his hand and the sheets, Chester’s name flinging off his tongue with every gush of release. Chester came right behind him, seconds later, moaning, “Michael, Michael, my sweet Michael,” until he was incapable of words. They remained there, screens up, eyes grazing over each other in a blissful stare, lips lazily smiling.

“… holy _wow_ ,” Mike expressed with a short chortle. “I was _totally_ _not_ expecting this tonight.”

“Me neither.”

“Well, you wanted spontaneity.”

Chester grinned. “Yes I did. And I can hardly wait for the day when we can do this in the same room, to each other.”

“Mmmm, I don’t know how well I’m going to be able to contain myself around you now.”

“Just think of it this way, darling,” Chester told him, coming in closer to the screen. “The longer we hold back, the greater it will be. We’ll be pawing at each other like animals; biting, licking, scratching… shit…”

“Then I’ll only last like, two minutes and you’ll be extremely disappointed.”

Chester became serious. “I could never, ever, even in our worst days, be disappointed by you. If you last two minutes then I’ll just keep sucking you off until you’re hard again and we can go for hours, days even, if that’s what you want.”

Mike smiled at him and said. “I want to go weeks with you. Years with you, Ches.”

“You sure you can handle years with me? I’m pretty difficult to love.”

“So far it’s been easy to love you. It’s coming natural to me, almost as if I’ve dreamed you into my life long before you entered it. You’re in my mind all of the time. You’re like dopamine to me; you’re my dopamine.”

Chester’s eyes softened. “I wish I was there to hold you.”

“Me too.”

“Stay on the phone with me until we fall asleep.”

“How will we turn our phones off?”

“Does it matter? Then we’ll just wake up to each other. Doesn’t sound like a bad thing to me.”

“Hmm… nor to me,” Mike agreed. “Ok. Let me just go… wash up first.”

“Wait!”

Mike picked up the phone. “What?”

“Taste yourself for me. I want to know how you taste.”

Mike’s eyes shifted back and forth and he turned pink at Chester’s request. How was this man capable of making Mike do such unthinkable things, he wondered, bringing his soiled fingers to his mouth. He wrapped his tongue around his fingertips, practically crying when Chester did the same, and moans filled the speakers.

“Delicious?” Chester asked.

Mike shrugged. “I’d rather be tasting you.”

“Hm, I know what you mean. Go clean yourself up, dirty boy. Meet you back here in a few.”

Mike set the phone down and trotted into the bathroom, naked, blindly finding the sink and washing his hands and privates. He ran back into the room and set his wet sheets to the edge of the bed and gathered up his comforter, sinking beneath the warm material. He propped his phone against the other pillow and waited for Chester to come back into view who was now leaning his phone up against a pillow. They lay on their sides, staring into one another with tired eyes and sleepy smiles.

“I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks.”

Chester hummed. “I know what you mean. Oh, and I meant to tell you earlier…”

“What?”

“You’re not boring. At all. I love spending time with you. You’re mysterious and funny and, my God, you have the best heart of anyone I’ve ever met. I would choose quiet time with you on the beach over a movie or dinner any goddamn day of the week. Understand?”

Mike nodded into his pillow.

“Ches?”

“Hmm?”

“Sing to me.”

There was another pause of silence between them.

“You really put me on the spot here,” Chester said followed by a light chuckle. “Ok… hmm…”

Chester closed his eyes, Mike doing the same, and Chester began to sing, his voice soothing yet somewhat… sad? Mike knew from the start that this particular man was full of secrets. He always knew that sooner or later he would have to attempt to drag those secrets from Chester. After all, Mike had a few secrets of his own. They’d both have to come clean eventually; it was just a matter of when. But he would worry about that later. Until then, he relaxed into his bed and chose to enjoy the tender moment given to him by the singing man on the screen.

_“I drove to the coast just to see you_

_Why’d you take so long?_

_And I get that you know that I miss you_

_And I, I know something’s wrong_

_“And I’m caught in this state_

_At least I hope it’s a phase_

_And I go and I just play along_

_And the voice that she plays_

_The photos that I’ve erased_

_I know something is wrong_

_“And then you speak to me_

_And everything gets easy_

_Like I get what I wanted_

_Now I’m just haunted by you constantly_

_And everything gets easy_

_‘Till she leaves you alone_

_And then you’re soaked to the bone_

_You’ll be sore_

_Come make it easy some more”_

Mike was nodding off to the sound of Chester’s sweet, melodic voice, the song unknown to him, yet familiar all the same. There was story behind his words; his tone soaking in plea.

“Is this better than a Memory watch?”

Mike smiled, his eyes still closed. “Much. Keep singing.”

_“Go ahead, take my heart up_

_Roll it up like a joint_

_Smoke me out ‘till the feeling gets cashed_

_When you look in my face_

_It’s like you forget the point_

_“And then you speak to me_

_And everything gets easy_

_Like I get what I wanted_

_Now I’m just haunted by you constantly_

_And everything gets easy_

_‘Till she leaves you alone_

_And then you’re soaked to the bone_

_You’ll be sore_

_Come make it easy some more_

_“If you wanna see me_

_You know I’m easily found_

_Just climb the stairs where we used to live_

_Wrap your first round my heart_

_Yeah, you know it pounds, pounds, pounds…_

_“Now I’m just haunted by you constantly_

_And everything gets easy_

_‘Till she leaves you alone_

_And then you’re soaked to the bone_

_You’ll be sore_

_Come make it easy some more…_

_Come make it easy some more…”_

 

“Sweet dreams, Michael.”

They fell asleep, side by side though miles apart, stomachs swarming with fireflies, their hearts full with hope of another beautiful tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is "Everything Is Easy" by Third Eye Blind


	5. Chapter Five- Let Him Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chester grinned and said. “He deserves that and so much more. Deserves more than me…”  
> “That’s not true,” she whispered. “Ches, it’s not true at all. So you’ve made mistakes? Who hasn’t?”  
> “But my mistakes cost me everything. I took it too far. This is my punishment and I accept it.”

Chapter Five-Let Him Go

The rain passed well into later the following day, the usually bright, sunny skies of L.A. drabbed in grey clouds and sparks of lightening. Jude was sitting at the kitchen table, coloring in an elephant he planned on giving to his Aunt Dazzy who was busy in the kitchen making breakfast. Thankfully the electric popped back on before either of them had woke up and Jaz started a pot of coffee knowing it would wake her slumbering brother out of bed.

“Aunt Dazzy?”

Jaz smiled at her nephew and set his plate of eggs and toast down in front of him.

“Yes, Judy?”

“Where was Daddy last night?”

Jaz furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“The loud noises woke me up and… and I went to his woom and knocked and he didn’t…didn’t answer,” Jude explained in a tiny way that made Jaz’s heart plummet. She sat down in the chair diagonal to him and looked into his glossy, azure eyes. She pushed his curly hair away from his forehead.

“Well, maybe he didn’t hear you, kiddo. He was probably sleeping.”

“Nuh-huh,” his curls shook wildly. “I opened the door and he wasn’t there.”

Jaz sighed, biting her thumbnail nervously.

_Damn it, Chester…_

“Uh… Jud--”

“Good morning, family!”

“Oh, thank God,” Jaz breathed, standing up and kissing Jude’s fluff of curls. “Chaz, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a minute?”

Chester looked around. “We are in the kitchen.”

Jaz rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist, dragging him away from the kitchen table and towards the coffee maker where she began pouring him a cup while hissing under her breath.

“You need to talk to your son.”

Looking at her in a sideways glance, he whispered back. “Why? What happened? I didn’t sleep that long did I?”

“Damn it, Chester, be serious for once,” she slammed the coffee cup down on the counter and Jude looked over their direction, his face covered in egg and ketchup. “Sorry, Judy, go back to eating, sweetie.” He shrugged his boyish shoulders and continued with his breakfast. Jaz leaned into Chester, staring into his honey eyes. “He asked me where you were last night; said the thunder scared him and he went to your room and you were gone.”

Chester hung his head. “Shit…” He mumbled then looked back into his sister’s scorned face. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing,” she sighed. “This is your area, not mine. I’m his aunt, not his parent. And why do you feel the need to sneak out without telling me? What if I went somewhere last night? Jude would’ve been here by himself and you never would’ve known.”

“I always make sure you’re both asleep before I leave.”

“But why do you feel the need to do it at all? If you want to spend time with… _him_ then just tell me so that way I at least know what I’m waking up to; how to handle Jude if he’s scared during a thunderstorm. Damn it, Chester, don’t be so goddamn immature.”

“Jaz, calm down. I’m sorry, ok? I’ll talk to Jude and I’ll make sure to tell you when I’m going out. Which, by the way, I’ll be going out tonight after Jude goes to sleep.”

Jaz rolled her eyes. “Fine. Then I get this afternoon.”

“Where’re you going?”

“Out to lunch with Dave. What are you going to tell Jude? You’re going to tell him the truth, right?”

Chester’s posture slumped and he stared into his coffee mug. “I don’t know. It’s too early don’t you think?”

“I think it’s too early for a lot of things,” she replied dully. “But he should at least know that you’re ‘talking’ with someone. They don’t have to meet. God, they really shouldn’t meet…” She trailed off, her attention focused now on the little joy coloring away, his plate pushed to the side and little feet swinging inches from the floor. He was humming to himself. “He’s smarter than most his age, Chaz. He would understand your new ‘friendship’ but I would leave it at that. Just because he’s smart doesn’t mean he’s ready.”

Chester nodded, agreeing, smiling at Jude when he looked up at him.

“Go get ready for your date, sis. I got it from here.”

Jaz mumbled an ‘ok’ and kissed Jude one more time as she walked by him. When she disappeared upstairs, Chester grabbed his cup of coffee and joined Jude at the table. He sat down in the same seat Jaz occupied earlier and peeked over at Jude’s artwork, the large cartoon elephant colored in a scribbling mess of rainbows.

“That’s a cool looking elephant,” Chester told him.

Jude rested his chin in his hand. “Thanks.”

“Are you upset with me, buddy?” Chester asked, running the back of his fingers over his arm and Jude shrugged.

“Not weally. I was just scared last night. I wanted to sleep with you.”

Chester hummed, his head bobbing. “Look at me, Judy,” he waited until those blue irises met his brown ones. “I am _so_ , _so_ , _very_ _sorry_ that I wasn’t home last night and I am even more sorry that you got scared. You should never, _ever_ feel scared in your entire life. If this happens again you have my full permission to wake up Jaz and she will get a hold of me and I will come right home, no matter how far away I am. Understand?”

Jude gave him three sturdy nods. “Ok, daddy. But daddy?”

“Yes, son?”

“Where were you?” He asked the unwanted questions and Chester bit the flesh of his inner cheek, his mind a three ringed circus. How much did you tell a nearly-four year old when it came to his daddy dating? And not just dating in general— dating a man.

“Well, Jude,” Chester began, scooting in closer. “Daddy has friends and sometimes I like to go see those friends.”

“Oh, so you saw Uncle Bwad?”

Chester chuckled. “No, son, not Uncle Brad.”

“Uncle Dwave?”

“No, not Dave either.”

“Uncle Joe?”

“No, not Uncle Joe,” Chester sighed. This kid was _relentless_. “Daddy has a new friend,” he explained and Jude’s face scrunched in confusion.

“Like a gwirfriend?”

A wide smile spread across Chester’s face. “You’re too smart sometimes, you know that, right?”

“Duh.”

“Hey, now, don’t be mean to your daddy,” he teased with a wink then said. “But, yes, Daddy does have a sort of ‘girlfriend’.”

“Sort of?” Asked Jude, his head tilted to one side.

“Well, some people have girlfriends and other people have boyfriends.”

“Oh. So you have a boyfriend?”

Chester’s cheeks went brighter than the pink crayon clasped in his son’s hand. “Uh… yeah… well, no… he’s a friend… who’s a boy…”

“Yeah. Boyfriend.”

“Ok,” he rolled his eyes upwards and grinned. “You win.”

“What’s his name?” Jude asked and started coloring in his elephant’s ear.

Chester sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “His name is Mike.”

“I like that name.”

“Yeah, buddy, me too.”

“Is he the one who named me Jude?”

Chester dropped his coffee cup and at the same time, Jaz had entered the room, her purse crashing, creating a clunk on the tile. Siblings stared at each other across the kitchen, Chester paler than the white sheets on the kitchen table, Jaz trembling, pink glossed lips agape.

“Wha-what did you say, Judy?” Chester asked.

Jude continued coloring. “You said someone named me but never said who. Was it him?”

Chester looked at Jaz then back at Jude, shaking his head. “No, buddy, Mike didn’t name you. That was a different friend.”

“Oh, ok.”

Jaz glowered at her brother, his eyes darkening as she picked up her purse off the floor and, swinging it over her shoulder, announced, “I’ll be back around seven,” and kissed Jude on the cheek.

“Bye, Dazzy!”

Jaz slipped into her car and stared at the staring wheel, her eyes brimming with tears. She gasped a pathetic laugh, wiping her eyes, and after checking her appearance in the review mirror, started the engine and headed towards the highway. Fifteen minutes later she pulled into the luncheon area of the cafe, spotting Dave sitting at a booth, his red hair covered in a baseball cap, dressed nicely in a button up short sleeved shirt the color of blue skies. She parked her car, reapplied a thin coat of gloss to her pouty lips and fluffed her hair that she straightened, the strands caressing her naked back exposed by a light purple backless sundress.

Dave whistled as she came into the cafe and she blushed as his eyes roamed her from head to toe. He stood up as she approached and they kissed each other’s cheeks in greeting before settling on opposite sides of the wooden table.

“You look wonderful,” he complimented. “But, forgive me, have you been crying?”

She dipped her head and chuckled. “Damn it. Didn’t think it was that noticeable. I’m sorry,” she said, looking up into his alarming jade eyes. “It’s just… this whole Chester thing…”

“Chester thing?” Dave asked.

Jaz paused. Fuck. She promised she wouldn’t say anything!

“Uh… yeah… you know, watching Jude and all. He’s at that age, ya know, where he’s all wild and stuff,” she threw her hands over her head and waved them side to side. “He’s just wild. Yeah… crazy kid.”

Dave narrowed his eyes. He knew she was lying but thought it too early in their relationship to pry. He couldn’t help but feel that Chester had embarked on Mike and if that were the truth, then there would be more people than just Jaz feeling pressure. They would all be feeling it: Dave, Brad, Joe, even Rob… Dave shook away his inner turmoil and smiled at the lovely blond before him.

“Pick whatever you want for lunch. It’s on me.”

**********

 “So what do you want to do today, buddy?”

“Beach!”

“It’s raining, love! Can’t go to the beach. Wanna play a game?”

He shook his head.

“No?” Chester gawked. “You never turn down a game! Are you ill?” He asked, pressing his lips to Jude’s forehead who giggled in response. “Hmmm… you don’t feel warm…” he continued covering his face in more wet, sloppy kisses, making Jude squirm and cackle loudly. “You can’t escape the kissy monster and you know it!” Jude twisted in his seat, wiping his face of Chester’s wet stamps, his giggles filling the room. Chester picked him up off the chair and tossed him in the air, spinning him around, and letting him ‘fly’ into the living room where they fell onto the floor in a heap of breathless laughter.

After their laughter died down, Jude picked out a DVD and they sat down on the couch as Peter Pan led Wendy and her brothers into Neverland. The storm continued outside and Chester took a hefty inhale of the rain air swirled with salt, his son sitting next to him, hugging his favorite stuffed gorilla Brad bought him when they took the kids to the Zoo last year. Chester smiled down at him and kissed the crown of his head, smelling his thick curls.

_Buzz_.

**Mikey** : Afternoon, gorgeous.

Chester bit the corner of his lip, grinning down at the screen.

**Ches** : Afternoon, sexy. How’d you sleep?

**Mikey** : Like a baby. You?

**Ches** : Same. Did you just wake up?

**Mikey** : Maaaaybe.

**Ches** : Lazy ass. ;) What are your plans for the day?

**Mikey** : Ha-ha. Not my fault that SOMEONE kept me up for almost forty-eight hours straight. And no plans. Was thinking of going to the store to get something for dinner, if you’re interested in joining me for dinner?

**Ches** : You enjoyed last night, don’t lie. ;) And of course I would love to join you.

**Mikey** : I could definitely do a re-run of last night that’s for damn sure.

**Ches** : I can make that happen.

**Mikey** : I’m sure you could… What would you like for dinner?

**Ches** : You.

**Mikey** : I can make that happen.

Chester chuckled under his breath as not to disturb his son, realizing then that a comet could hit their house and Jude would still be jumping and singing along with Peter Pan.

**Ches** : Tempting… Could just skip dinner and go straight to dessert?

**Mikey** : What do you have in mind?

**Ches** : I don’t know. What can we make with two naked bodies, chocolate syrup and cherries?

**Mikey** : One helluva sexy cock sundae.

Chester tried to keep from laughing, the result being a forced snort that almost made him choke. Luckily Jude was too engrossed in his movie to pay attention.

**Ches** : Naughty, naughty!

**Mikey** : Don’t ask the questions if you don’t want the answers.

**Ches** : Touché. But seriously, I’m not picky. I’m sure I’ll like anything you make.

**Mikey** : That doesn’t help me at all! I’ll think of something. Gonna head out now.

**Ches** : LOL! Sorry. Text me later?

**Mikey** : Of course.

**Ches** : Be safe. It’s crazy windy and rainy out there.

**Mikey** : Awwww, are you worried about me?

**Ches** : Why wouldn’t I be? Can’t let you die without tasting those lips first.

**Mikey** : Good point. I’ll drive like a grandma.

**Ches** : Thank you.

**Mikey** : Anything for you.

Mike shoved his phone into his back pocket. The rain pounded hard against the roof of his car on the drive into town. Much to Mike’s distaste, the highway was busy with pedestrians and cars. Nothing ever seemed to cease the amount of traffic in L.A. He pulled into a local grocery and parked the car, taking a deep breath before dashing out into the downpour and thankful that he had worn a hoodie. Damn stores were always so fuckin’ freezing…

He pulled a cart out of the pile and started in the meat department, the lady behind the counter helping with his choosing of fresh steak and lobster. Mike thanked the nice lady and headed to the produce for two potatoes and fresh veggies. After picking a bottle of pink champagne and some new candles, he stopped by the flowers and inspected the bouquets. He decided on a batch of red and white roses, to hell if it was cheesy.

“Mike?”

His spine went numb. He knew that voice. Turning on his heel, a pair of Asian eyes, darkly confused, greeted him.

“Hey Joe, what’s up?”

Joe’s sights shot back and forth between Mike’s face and the roses.

“Got a hot date?”

Mike set the roses in the cart and scratched the back of head, nibbling his bottom lip.

“Kind of…”

The DJ sighed and shook his head. He already knew about Mike and Chester’s open flirting at Brad’s party, had to withstand Brad’s drunken rant about how it was the worst idea in the universe, how he had warned Chester and Dave’s warning to Mike. And judging by Mike’s crimson face, Joe knew right off the bat whom those flowers and steaks were intended for.

“Mike, dude, you might want to be careful,” he started, cut short by a raised hand from his friend.

“Already heard it all, Hahn. I’m a grown ass man, I can decide for my own who I make dinner for.”

“Calm down, Mike, I’m not going to lecture you, we have Brad for the lectures,” he chuckled and placed a friendly hand on Mike’s arm. “Chester has a… history, but you are right, you are a grown ass man who can make his own choices. I can’t say I approve of this but I am here for you if you need me. Just be careful and, all things holy, do _not_ let Brad found out. Not until you know if this is a permanent thing or not.”

Mike smiled and said evenly. “It’s just dinner.”

And 3 a.m. FaceTime phone sex, but Joe didn’t need to know that.

Joe gave a nod and smile. “All right, dude. Have fun and don’t let those lobsters steam for too long because--”

“They’ll get rubbery I know,” Mike smiled. “See ya, Joe.”

“Bye, Mike. And like I said before, I’m always here if you need to talk.”

“I know. I appreciate that.”

They bid farewell and Mike found a spot in line, the checkout aisles miles longed it seemed. He took his phone out of his pocket, arms resting on the handle of the cart, and began typing.

**Mikey** : The store is insanely busy! You’d think the rain would keep people inside.

**Ches** : LOL! It’s L.A., what do you expect?

**Mikey** : I know, still… I can’t wait to see your beautiful face.

**Ches** : You’re making me blush. I can’t wait to see yours.

**Mikey** : I like it when you blush.

**Ches** : I like it when you moan my name.

“Shit…” He whispered to himself.

**Mikey** : Not now! I’m in public! I got us some good stuff for dinner.

**Ches** : Can’t wait! You know I’ve been thinking of you all day.

**Mikey** : I’ve been thinking of you as well. What’ve you been thinking of?

**Ches** : Honestly?

**Mikey** : Honestly.

**Ches** : Kissing you.

**Mikey** : Great minds think alike apparently. You want me to kiss you?

**Ches** : Would it be taking it too far if I said yes?

**Mikey** : I’d say it’s about damn time.

**Ches** : … so does that mean I get a kiss tonight?

**Mikey** : Maybe.

**Ches** : Tease.

**Mikey** : I just want to make sure it’s perfect.

**Ches** : I can’t see how it wouldn’t be.

Mike smiled and set his items on the belt.

**********

“Here you go, buddy,” Chester set a grilled cheese and carrot sticks in front of Jude.

He jumped up and down in his seat, his eyes wide as he stared down at the hot sandwich his daddy had made especially for him.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo. So what’s next? Finding Nemo?”

“Yes! Nemo!”

Chester chuckled and popped open another DVD and placed it into the tray. It was almost two in the afternoon and Chester noted how slow time seemed to pass since he and had met Mike. Chester adored his son, he soaked up every minute that he could with him, knowing damn well that there will come a day when Jude was sixteen and moody and wanted nothing to do with him. So it wasn’t that Chester didn’t want to spend with his son. He was just anxious to see Mike again; to witness that smile; hear that heart pulsing laugh.

Chester started the DVD and a knock on the front door made both boys look over their shoulder into the hallway. Chester smiled at Jude and kissed his forehead.

“I’ll be right back, buddy.”

Jude turned back to the TV and Chester answered the door, his throat going dry all at once and his heart falling into his guts.

“We need to talk,” Brad stated with an angry growl, pushing past Chester before he could protest.

Chester sighed and shut the door. Brad stood in the hall next to the stairway, arms crossed around his small chest, foot tapping against the floor in a steady beat. For a skinny little twerp Brad sure could be intimidating when he was upset. Chester, too, crossed his arms and the two men stared each other down for a moment, silently challenging the other to speak.

Brad was the first to break the tension.

“What are you thinking?” He snapped, pointing to his own temple. “What is going on inside that brain of yours, Chester!”

Chester put his hands up as if creating a wall between them. “Shhhh, Jude is in the living room.”

Brad lowered his voice at the mention of Chester’s son. The last thing Brad wanted to do was upset the little guy. He could care less about upsetting Chester, however, and the lawyer stepped forward, stopping within a few inches of his face. Chester rolled his eyes and straightened his back, preparing for the rant he was about to hear.

“You promised me, Chaz. You fucking promised that you would stay away from him!”

“ _He_ came onto _me_ ,” Chester whispered back. “He asked _me_ out.”

“That’s your excuse? You could’ve said no!”

“You’re right, I could have.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Chester became still. Why didn’t he say no? Lord knows he tried to. “No” was right on the tip of his tongue when Mike asked Chester out on a date. It was an easy word to say, a simple word to understand. He could say no to anyone. So why couldn’t he say it to Mike?

“I… I… I just couldn’t…” He lowered his eyes when he answered. “He was just so…”

Brad interrupted without hesitation. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear any of your sappy, romantic, self-pity bullshit. I let it go at the party but you have me fucked up if you think I’m going to sit back and allow you to ruin his life. Stay away from him.”

Chester’s head shot up and he narrowed his eyes. “Who the fuck do you think are? You can’t tell me what to do! I’m not hurting anyone!”

“Yet.”

“Fuck you, Brad! This is _my_ life!”

Brad raised his hands over his head and let them fall, his palms slapping his thighs. “This isn’t about you! It’s not always about _your life_ , Chester! What’s your plan, huh? Are you just going to… _fake_ everything? Lie to him for the rest of his life?”

“… I hadn’t really thought about it. Of course I was going to tell him the truth but –”

“That’s your problem! You don’t think! Don’t you see, Chester,” Brad settled into a calm, smooth tone, and rested his hands on Chester’s biceps. They made eye contact and Brad’s stomach churned when he saw the tears building inside his friends eyes.”Don’t cry, Chaz. I’m not… I’m not trying to be mean but I’m afraid I have to be in this situation. I don’t want you to hurt. I don’t want Mike to hurt. Fuck, that’s why I’m here! By telling him the truth you’re not doing him any favors. It’ll _destroy_ him, Chaz.”

“You don’t know that,” Chester replied, a hint of hope in his voice.

“No? Then tell me… how are _you_ feeling right now? Hm? You know the truth. Is it easy to live with?”

Chester sighed and Brad rubbed his arm gently, trying his best to keep Chester calm.

“Despite what you think right now, Chester, I’m not doing this to be mean. I just… I can’t even begin to understand what you’re feeling right now. I don’t even think there’s an appropriate word or sentence for your confusion, your relief, your heartache… But I’m here to try and stop the inevitable. If you continue on down this road with him and even if you tell him the truth or not, he _will_ find out one way or another. So ask yourself: if you were in his position and you found out the truth, would you be able to forgive him?”

Again, he sighed.

“You’re right, Brad. I know you’re right. I just… he… I… Oh, god!”

Brad was taken aback when Chester collapsed to the floor, accidently dragging Brad down with him. The two men hugged tightly and Chester was having a difficult time breathing, trying his best to keep his sobs under control so Jude couldn’t hear him. It was too late when the two men heard a pitter-patter of small feet trot down the hallway. The little boy stopped when he saw his daddy and uncle hugging one another in the middle of the foyer, Brad soaked to the bone from the pouring rain. Jude ran forward and squeezed between them. Brad and Chester held Jude close. He didn’t understand why his daddy would be crying. He didn’t understand why his uncle was looking like he’d just seen a ghost. Yet he did understand that the best cure to tears was love.

“I love you, daddy.”

A sniffling Chester smiled into his boy’s curly hair, peering up at Brad who was staring back.

“I love you, too, buddy. Daddy’s ok. Why don’t you go finish your movie and I’ll be right there in a few minutes.”

“Ok, daddy.”

Jude stood up and gave Brad a hug. “I love you, too, uncle Bwad.”

“Love you, buddy. Hey, you wanna go to the zoo again with your cousins before it gets too cold?”

Jude’s eyes lit and he jumped in place. “Yeah, yeah!”

“Ok. Your daddy and I will discuss details and we will go one weekend. Now go enjoy your movie.”

Jude nodded and skipped down the hall. Chester watched him and smirked.

“I forget what it’s like to be sad one minute then skipping for joy the next. Sometimes I wish I was a kid again.”

Brad chuckled. “We all want that.”

“You don’t.”

“You think I like seeing you this way?” He asked, causing Chester to turn and look at him. “You think I enjoy seeing you hurt? It’s _killing_ me now just as much as it was killing me four years ago. Damn it, Ches, I _want_ you to be _happy_. I want you to skip down the hallway, smell the fucking roses, flutter like a butterfly. But it can’t… this is… not…”

Chester nodded. “I know,” he answered. “I know, Brad.” He sighed and picked himself up off the ground, Brad standing as well. Chester’s eyes drooped and he bit his lower lip. “I’ll cut ties with him. You win, ok?”

“It’s not about me winning or you losing. You know that this is for the best.”

“I suppose. What am I supposed to tell him? What do I even say?”

Brad shook his head. “It’s up to you. What do you feel is the best approach?”

“There isn’t one,” he said with a sarcastic chuckle. “… I’ll take care of it. Just… do me one favor?”

“Of course.”

“If he ever asks you about me, just… just tell him I’m fucked up or something. Don’t make me out to be a bad person, just tell him that I’m too… I don’t know, fucking emotional to handle a relationship and that it’s nothing against him.”

With a furrowed brow beneath his blue trucker hat, Brad asked. “Why don’t you just tell him that yourself?”

Chester gazed up at Brad and whispered. “Because I can’t lie to him.”

**********

It was heading on 8:30 when Jaz came in through the front door of her new home. She announced her presence and when the house responded with silence, she shut the door behind her, shook out her umbrella, and headed into the living room. She smiled at the sight of Jude sleeping on the couch, _Robin Hood_ playing on the large screen at low volume. She tip-toed over and covered his slumbered body with a blanket and kissed him lightly on the cheek before setting off to find her brother.

She smelt the sea and rain blowing in through the kitchen. She followed the scent and found Chester sitting on the back porch, lit cigarette in hand. Jaz approached him easily as not to startle him. Without looking at her, he greeted her with a simple, short “hey” and took a drag of his cigarette.

For a moment her heart stopped. Earlier in the afternoon Chester was so enthused and excited, glowing like a kid with a gumball. Who the hell took away his gumball? She sat down in the lounge chair next to him and gave him a sideways glance in which he ignored, continuing to stare out into the storm.

“You ok?” She asked.

He puffed on his cigarette. A constant buzzing noise vibrated against the glass table and Jaz reached over, keeping an eye on Chester for any sort of reaction to his sister grabbing his phone. There was no reaction, just a dead, cold, empty stare. She unlocked the phone and what she read snapped her heartstrings like a pair of scissors cutting through a taut rubber band.

**Mikey** : You’re going to love dinner. And I have a surprise for you.

**Mikey** : I hate to bother you but… I’m stripping down for a shower ;)

**Mikey** : Hey, are you still coming over? Haven’t heard from you in a couple hours.

**Mikey** : I hope everything is ok with you…

**Mikey** : I don’t mean to keep bothering you but I would really love to know if you’re still coming over?

Jaz looked at Chester, crossed and baffled.

“What’s going on, Chaz?”

He didn’t answer; didn’t look at her. He popped another cigarette between his lips and lit the end, exhaling slowly.

_Buzz, buzz._

**Mikey** : Did you fall asleep?

**Mikey** : I’m going to call you just in case your bitch ass did fall asleep.

Jaz froze.

“He’s going to call you like… right now.”

Again, he didn’t budge. The phone went off and Jaz stared at the name flashing across the screen. She handed the phone over to Chester, nudging his hand with the phone, and he didn’t respond to neither the phone nor Jaz. The phone stopped ringing and a few seconds later, a voicemail alert popped up. Chester knew she was listening to the voicemail. He tried not to care. He didn’t want to hear what Mike had to say. Jude fell asleep not too long ago and Chester didn’t know what to do with his raging thoughts. Hell, he didn’t even remember coming out on to the porch. How long had he been out here?

“Uh… hey, Ches. I don’t know if you fell asleep and can’t hear your phone or if you’re ignoring me. There’s… there’s not much I can say that won’t make me look like a complete ass or a clingy bitch. I just… I have this dinner for you and I just want to know if you’re still coming over. If you’re not, that’s fine, just tell me. Please. Please call me, Ches. Ok… bye.”

“Chester,” Jaz said in a stern tone. “Chester, what the hell is going on? What happened?”

When all she received was more silence, Jaz slammed the phone down on the table and kneeled in front of him. She snatched the cigarette out of Chester’s hand and flicked it into the yard where it was put out by the rain. He finally looked at her, his eyes rimmed in tears and chin quivering.

“What happened?” She repeated but in a gentle, sympathetic tone. She rubbed his knee to sooth him.

He wiped his tears away and scoffed. “What does it matter?”

“It _does_ matter. I haven’t seen you like this since…”

“History likes to repeat itself, sis.”

The realization hit her like an incoming train.

“Did you… you didn’t…”

“Tell him?” He asked with a cocked brow. “No. I’m ending it before it gets that far.”

“I… I don’t understand. You were so excited this morning to see him again. Fuck, you’ve been prancing around the house like a love sick teenager! Then I leave for a few hours and come home to find you a goddamn mess. The emptiness in your eyes… you don’t want this, Ches. This isn’t your doing and it’s most definitely not Mike’s. Who persuaded you?”

“No one persuaded me! I can think for myself believe it or not!”

She rolled her eyes. “I never said you can’t but something happened!”

He pursed his lips and stared over her shaking head.

“Fine, you don’t have to explain shit to me, Ches, but for fuck’s sakes, at least tell Mike! He’s freaking out! He at least deserves to know why you’re not replying or picking up his calls. He deserves that, don’t you think?”

Chester grinned and said. “He deserves that and so much more. Deserves more than me…”

“That’s not true,” she whispered. “Ches, it’s not true at all. So you’ve made mistakes? Who hasn’t?”

“But my mistakes cost me everything. I took it too far. This is my punishment and I accept it.”

“So what?” She boldly asked. “You’re just going to dismiss him like he’s nothing but a pesky fly? You’re not going to give him any explanations? You’ve done shitty things in your life, Ches, but this is by far the shittiest.”

“I would think you would’ve been happy to hear that I’m cutting ties.”

“No! I’m not! Especially when you’re being a fucking child about it!” She stood up and tossed his phone onto his lap. “Have it your way, Chester. Miss out on a second opportunity because your friends are controlling assholes. I don’t care. It’s your life. Goodnight.”

And with that said, she stomped back into the house. When she was gone, Chester exhaled and thumbed his phone screen, hovering over the new text messages.

**Mikey** : Please call me.

**Mikey** : Did I do something wrong?

Teardrops fell from his chin and onto the phone. He wiped them dry and lit another cigarette. Just as he was about to dial a number, the phone vibrated in his already shaking hand. Taking a deep breath, he accepted the call and put the phone to his ear.

“Ches?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment; unsure what to say.

“Ches, are you there?”

He closed his eyes and bit down on the inside of his cheek.

“Mike,” he started, fighting back tears. “I… I can’t… come over tonight…”

“Oh.” Pause. “That’s ok. You sound tired. How about tomorrow?”

He shook his head and even though Mike couldn’t see it, he knew exactly what Chester was trying to say.

“Not tomorrow, huh? Not ever?”

Chester bent at the waist and rested his forehead in his palm, his head bobbing from the force of his legs shaking up and down.

“… I’m sorry, Mike.”

“I don’t understand. Did I do something?”

“No!” He answered a little too loudly. “No,” he repeated softer. “God, no, Mike, you’re… perfect. I just… I just can’t.”

“Ches--”

“Goodbye, Mike.”

He hung up the phone and, in a fit of fury, threw the device across the porch. It hit the wall and shattered, the pieces exploding and landing on the concrete floor. Chester put his face in his hands and cried. He could see Mike in his head, tears rolling down his gorgeous, tan cheeks. He knew Mike was questioning everything: what could he have done to make things different? Did he say the wrong things? Was he too pushy? Was he not good enough? Chester didn’t want to think about it anymore. What he wanted to do – the only thing he wanted to do – was get in his car, drive to Mike’s, and beg forgiveness. He wanted to shower him in kisses and worship the ground he walked on.

But he knew he wouldn’t do that. It was just fantasy. And he was a fool to act upon this from the start. Mike deserved better. Everyone knew it and, hopefully, in time, Mike would see it as well. Maybe this will push Mike to venture out and find someone new, someone worthy of his love. As much as it stung to think of such a thing, Chester knew it was for the best. He had to let him go.

Jaz placed her hand on Chester’s shoulder. He stared up at her and sobbed openly in her arms. She rubbed his back and simply sat with him as he cried… and cried… and cried… Eventually her own tears escaped her eyes. For some reason, she had an inkling that Brad had something to do with her brother’s drastic change of direction and if Chester wouldn’t do anything about it, then she would. This wasn’t about Brad or Dave and it wasn’t about Jaz, it was about Chester and it was about Mike. Yes, she would do anything in the world to help them find happiness, even if meant going against everything everyone else fought so hard to protect.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, please leave me a review and/or kudu! PLLLLLLEASE? :)


	6. UPDATE AS OF 07/15/18

STORY IS CONTINUED @ LPFICTION.COM

http://lpfiction.com/story.php?id=16742

**Author's Note:**

> Review? :) <3


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